A Little Spy Work
by Jimmy Candlestick
Summary: Rating may change. Alright, I lied. I'll write another summ. As the title suggests, there is a little spy work going on in and around the Acceledrome. Who is doing the spy work? Is it perhaps the guy who saved Lani from her from a mugging? For what reason
1. Prologue

**Heavens! This makes the third story I'm working on! Anywho, I'm not sure how fast this'll go, 'cuz it's an 'on the whim' thing. Well, mugging comes later. Enjoy! -Jimmy Candlestick**

* * *

The hot sun beat down on the California desert. Even up in the air, heat waves could be seen dancing on the ground in the distance. A few carrion birds circled in the air, looking for a dead morsel lying about. All was silent except for the buzzing engine of the small single-engine Cessna 350. The sleek plane was cruising in large circles over an unusual huge rock formation beneath it. The belly was painted a copper blaze, whilst the stripe was suede green.

In the cockpit, the pilot peered below through his dark sunglasses. He was trying to catch a glimpse of some life, but none seemed to dwell in the forbidding ground below. Glancing at the fuel gauge he sighed. He took out a slim black cell phone with the emblem of an 'N' that had a narwhal swimming around it at a slight angle. Hooking it up to his black headset, he dialed a number.

Someone picked up on the other line at the first ring. _"Hello?"_

"Patch me through to the Major, please," he answered.

"_Just a minute."_

While he was waiting, he looked down again. The pilot was young, about eighteen, with longish brown hair that extended to the middle of his ears. Taking off his sunglasses, he revealed the most serious eyes one could come across. A deep brown with hints of green near his irises. At first glance, one would think he was just a serious lad that did a lot of pondering, but if they actually looked into them, they would discover pain, sorrow, and age that was not yet supposed to come to him.

"_Dawes?" _A clipped voice came through.

"Yes sir," he began. "I haven't seen anyone and I'm almost out of fuel, I'm going to have to turn in for the night."

An audible sigh was heard on the other end. _"Alright. Wait two more days before going out again. Don't want to look too suspicious."_

"Yes, sir. I was-hold on! Someone's coming out."

"_Follow him! I want to know where they're going!"_

"Yes, sir!" A click on the other end signified that the major had hung up.

The car below had seemingly come out of no where, popping out of the rock wall. Banking right, 'Dawes' followed it toward a dilapidated building not to far from there. It pulled in and must've stopped. For a few minutes, Dawes was afraid he'd have to go ahead and leave, but as the sun was setting, six cars turned off the road and drove toward the building.

Quickly, he switched to auto-pilot and snapped a few pictures with a camera he had lying next to him. He was able to get the symbols on the cars, but unable to get the drivers. Three of them were darker, duller colors, with a funny looking 'M' on them. The other three were brighter, white, blue, and orange colors, their symbol a bit more complicated than the others.

Looking once more at his fuel gauge, Dawes turned to return to the airport. At his hotel, he'd upload the pictures and send them to the major. Then, he would wait for his next orders.


	2. Ch1 Being Saved 101

**Thanks for the reviews, here's the next installment. Okay, gotta see, I can't promise a regular update. **

* * *

Lani plopped the bag onto the passenger seat of Karma's car

Lani plopped the bag onto the passenger seat of Karma's car. The deep blue car was parked in front of a small, yet very useful drug store. Whenever she needed some minor medical equipment, she always came here. She closed the door and walked to the driver's side. She opened it. Then she just stood there.

With a sigh she looked over at a nearby park. Two woman were jogging on the path, gossiping about who knows what. A young boy was walking his dog, and in the distance, shouting could be heard from a basketball game. It was a pleasant day and the sun was filtering through the parks trees. It was only a block away.

She bit her lip, looked back at the car, back at the park, and slammed the door shut. She missed walking outside where it was green. What could a few more minutes hurt? Setting a brisk pace, she started toward it. A slight smile played on her lips as she thought of how deprived she must seem, since a small walk was making her feel giddy.

Across the street, a pair of eyes watched her as she went. They glanced back at the car. They knew that vehicle. But the girl…she wasn't familiar. She was wearing dark denim jeans, a rose pink shirt with a jacket over it. Black hair was pulled up in a pony tail that swung as she walked. She had seemed undecided at the car. Why? Was there some pressing matter needed attending to?

You know…that car looked nice. Must've been expensive…

She wasn't that far away when someone grabbed her. From the corner of her eye, a dark shape had crossed the street, somehow, this registered in with her that the dark shape had grabbed her. A beefy hand covered her mouth as she was pushed into a nearby alley. Further back, she was pressed against the wall, facing two men.

"Got any money on ya?" One asked harshly.

Her mouth covered, she couldn't scream. She only watched him, eyes wide with terror, not answering.

Silence was not the answer he wanted. Drawing his fist back, he dealt her a hard blow. Black spots danced before her eyes as she wheeled back. She hit the ground hard on her side as they grabbed her arm again. A shout suddenly rent the air. She looked up in time to see someone grab the first guy.

She leaned against the wall as her 'hero' dealt with the thugs. He took the first guy and flung him to the ground. The second mug grabbed him from behind, only to get elbowed in the stomach, flipped over, and promptly twisted around with his arms in a painful position. Before the thug was able to react, something hard hit him in the head, sending him into blissful darkness.

The first thug had recovered sufficiently from his rib bruising on the ground to attack the new guy again. He through a punch at the guy, not expecting it to be blocked. His arm was grabbed and also twisted uncomfortably. He, however, was able to respond quite well to this, and turned around with unexpected agility. He swung his leg high, catching his opponent in the head. The thug pulled a gun from beneath his jacket, when the rescuer kicked him hard in the legs, causing him to tumble over. He, also, was given a hard hit to the head to be sent in a wonderfully deep sleep before waking to a splitting headache.

Lani's breath was still coming in short gasps as she shakily stood to her feet. Her rescuer was standing by the most recently made senseless mugger, making a call on his phone. In a few minutes he was done. Looking over, he saw her still standing there watching her attackers.

"Are you alright?" Lani looked up at the sound of the soft British accent.

Meeting her gaze were the most serious brown eyes she had ever come across. Right then they were filled with concern. She slowly nodded. "Y-yeah. I think." She gave a short laugh.

"Come on," he said, lightly touching her elbow to guide her back into the sunlight. He led her to a small doorstep where she sat down to start shaking really hard.

Both were silent as she tried to take this in. Finally she spoke, "Thank you. I-I'm not sure how to thank you quite enough." She gave a nervous laugh. "That was definitely a new experience!"

She turned to face him. He had a slightly amused look on his face. "I should think so. Are you sure you're alright? The police will be here soon."

"Yeah, I'll be fine." She looked at him closely. His eyes, she had down. Now she took in his longish brown hair and realized that he was about her age. But, he really didn't seem like that. In fact, at the moment he reminded her more of an over protective older brother.

"That's good." He angled his head slightly, looking at the other side of her face. "You're going to have a nice one there," he commented.

She winced as she raised a hand to the spot. "Is it bad?"

He chuckled. "Well, it depends on if a noticeably fist sized bruise it bad or not. You may want to get it looked at."

She sighed heavily. "Oh. It'll get looked at, trust me."

Sirens could be heard as the metro police department arrived. They both stood up as the three officers got out of their cars. Following was a lot of questions, the two thugs, still groggy, being put into the backseat of one of the police cars. After about fifteen minutes questioning, a lot of them being, 'Are you alright?', Lani and her new found friend were allowed to go home.

"Huh, I expected to go to the station," Lani though aloud.

"That actually only happens when something more serious than a bruised cheek happened," He answered airily.

Lani looked at him, somewhat bemused. He seemed to take in seriously and lightly at the same time. She couldn't figure him out.

"Hey, were you just passing by?" she inquired, suddenly remembering how quickly he had come.

He faced her, looking her straight in the eye. "No, I was actually across the street when it happened. I didn't really react until they covered your mouth."

Lani nodded as she made her way to the car. The way he was so calm about it all slightly unnerved her. Even with his 'over-protective older brother' demeanor, he seemed to take it well. Though, that hadn't resurfaced since the police arrived.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Speakin' o' which…

"Yeah. I'm fine. A little shaky still, but, I'll be fine. Thanks again." They reached the car again.

He opened the door for her. She couldn't help but comment, "Wow. You don't see much chivalry from perfect strangers like this anymore. Do they teach you that in England?"

As she slid into the seat, he laughed. "No, they don't. But thank you for the compliment. If that's what it was."

"It was. Hey," she turned to face him, "we never exchanged names. I'm Lani."

He smiled politely back. "Stephen."

With another thanks, she drove off.

After her car disappeared, Stephen pulled out his cell. Flipping it open, he was pleased to see the small flashing dot that appeared.

**There ya go. Review? Gracias.**


	3. Ch2 A Lovely Bruise is Sure to Be Seen

"Here are the coordinates," Stephen announced with a perfectly American accent, looking down at a laptop screen.

"_Thanks, it's not like I can pick up the tracker's signal too,"_ a sarcastic voice sounded on the other end.

"Aaron, do me a favor: show some appreciation."

"_Appreciation? No such thing." _

A pause.

"_Appreciation for what?"_

Stephen rolled his eyes. "For the work that I do. The work that you're supposed to do with me."

"_You know what, if you hadn't caused that accident, I wouldn't be lying around at home with a broken leg receiving calls from young rookies like you."_

Stephen chuckled. "As I recall, you wanted to jump down fifteen feet to retrieve the chip. _I_ was suggesting that we climb down-something that's usually your job."

Aaron laughed right back. _"Ya got me there, squirt."_

Stephen shook his head. Aaron was his partner/mentor, who was usually with him on these assignments. But due to the named accident, Aaron was home and Stephen was on his first solo mission.

"Well," he continued. "That is definitely the place. Do they have any schematics I can use?" He inquired, getting up to prepare his gear.

The gear wasn't really considerable. For this kind of thing, he required a wrist computer, a nano device he strapped to his forearm, gloves, a lock pick, an electronic jammer, and a gun with a silencer. When going in, he took no chances.

"_Yeah, our source has the place memorized…surprise surprise. Here, I'm sending them to you now."_

"Thanks."

* * *

Lani looked into the rear-view mirror once more. Yup. The bruise was definitely fist-sized. She peeked out of the car. The garage was strangely quiet. Both Teku and Metal Maniacs were no where to be seen. The checked the clock. It was three. So, they couldn't be having lunch. They couldn't _all _be napping. And Tezla most certainly wouldn't have them in the lab. Which only left one place-the conference room.

With a groan of not-so-desperate despair, Lani got out of the car. Turning around, she let out a yelp of surprise. GIG was right there, apparently waiting for her.

"What do you want?" she demanded, bad-temperdly.

She hated how the robot could stare at you without blinking, as he was doing now. "Dr. Tezla is holding a meeting in the conference room. He requests you're attendance."

"I'm coming. Here, put these in the med-lab-" she handed him the bag "- and get me a bag of ice."

"For your face?"

Lani stalked away without answering.

GIG just watched her go. "I'll take that as a yes."

* * *

Lani reached the door. She raised a hand to open the door, but paused. She touched her bruise gingerly, wincing as her brain was alerted to the pain. Her glance in the mirror had only told her the size of the bruise, not if it was swollen. Right then it didn't feel swollen, but, you never know. She took a deep breath, almost preparing herself, and opened the door. And everyone looked up.

She walked quickly to a chair, ignoring the staring eyes. She sat and waited for the questions, which she had expected to come sooner. But no worries, they came.

"What happened to your face?!" was pretty much on everyone's tongue when the cat let go.

"Well…um…I, uh," she started to get it out, but so far, it wasn't working.

"Lani," Kurt began. "Did you run into…trouble, in town?"

She looked around at everyone. From the looks on their faces (excluding Taro, the guy wouldn't know expression if it slapped him in the face) they were all thinking that. It was kind of sweet, actually, that they all had that concern for her…

"Sort of." Another deep breath. Another look at the expectant faces. "Someone tried to mug me." She looked down at her clasped hands, working and re-working themselves together.

Exclamations of surprise were heard around the room. Lani looked up again, and this time Taro had finally worked up some expression.

Karma picked up one thing in. "Tried?"

"Yeah." She bit her lip. "Some…well, I don't want to say random, but he kind of was…this guy just showed up…and…" she shrugged. "stopped them. There isn't really another way to put it."

They all stared at her for a second.

Tork was the first to break the silence, having the decency to ask, "Do want some ice?"

Lani shook her head and waved her hand in the door's direction absent-mindedly. "Yeah, I just sent GIG to get some for me."

The team members and Dr. Tezla exchanged looks.

Lani winced as she caught her own mistake. "He…doesn't have any arms. I'll be right back."

She got up and left the room, going into the garage. Right there beside the car was the bag of things she had gotten, and GIG hovering above it. He stared at her as she walked up, and all of the sudden, Lani wished GIG could blink. Stupid computer.

"I can't pick things up," he stated bluntly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. Sorry." She grabbed the bag and returned to the conference room.

"Here, Lani," Monkey said, handing her a towel of ice.

She took it, nodding her thanks, and sat back down. Dr. Tezla cleared his throat and began the meeting. Through out the whole thing, Lani was painfully aware of the looks that were snuck her way. Why, oh why, did she want to take a walk?

* * *

Silent as a shadow, which it could've easily been mistaken for, the black car pulled into the garage. The driver got out, quietly and gently closing the door. His eyes flicked around, studying his surroundings. The room was huge, the walls soared upward disappearing for lack of lighting. Dominating the room was a huge orange track, with a three-banded ring seemingly floating in the middle.

_Looks like a toy car track, _he noted with an amused smile.

"I was beginning to wonder when you were going to arrive." He whirled around at the sound of a low, mechanical voice. Right there was that floating computer thing.

"GIG!" he whispered fiercely, "Try not to surprise me! Did you get everything ready"

"Almost. The cameras are running a tape, and most of the doors are unlocked. Dr. Tezla's personal laboratory is locked. I believe he has that password, and didn't tell me."

Stephen nodded. "Well…I suppose I don't have to do that one yet. I'll use the computer room first. That'll be all I can do tonight. You said the alarm could go off at any moment?"

"Yes. The Wheel of Power decides when to operand close. We can do nothing about it."

"Thanks. All of the security alarms are off, though, right?"

"Yes."

"Good." Stephen headed for the computer room, following GIG. Presently, they arrived at a room with a large window that faced the track and holograph.

GIG turned it on while Stephen attached his own computer. When it was on, Stephen typed in a few commands and started looking through the files. Slouched in the chair he watched the screen as he went from one area in the computer to another.

"Shouldn't you just get them all?" GIG asked.

"No. Mine can only hold so much. I should've brought my other one. I just need to get the choice files for now. Here's something!" Stephen started the uploading process, moving one of the 'choice files' to his computer. After a few minutes the whole procedure was done, and he began shutting things down.

Suddenly, a loud, almost beeping, noise was heard. Stephen looked at GIG, who stated, "It's the wheel."

A small microphone, seeming to come from his ear, appeared on Stephen's cheek. He spoke some words into it, and his car below looked as if it melted into the background. Footsteps could be heard in the hall way. Stephen saw a vent and opened it. Almost as soon as he closed it behind him, the door opened.


	4. Ch3 The Beginning of a Little Spy Work

**Okay, here's another installment, sorry it took me so long. Like I said, I'm not sure how often I'll be posting this one...**

* * *

Lani and a man with gray hair entered, both grabbed small headsets that attached to their ears with a small microphone extending to mid-cheek. Stephen should've been watching them set up the system, but his eyes were riveted on one thing. Through the window the giant golden rings could be seen turning around and around, moving apart, slowly at first, but picking up speed. Without warning, a brilliant bright light flashed and a blue orb suddenly appeared in the middle of the now still rings. Stephen barely stifled his gasp of surprise. The Major had talked about something like this, but Stephen had barely paid the subject any attention.

In a few moment, he saw ten cars shoot up the track and into the portal, each one creating a small flash of light as it entered. Again, he had to suppress a gasp of shock when the cars seemed to disappear into the orb. Shifting his gaze toward the computers, he saw ten monitors. It only took a few moments to realize that these were onboard cameras that were attached to the cars. Peering closer, Stephen could see that the cars seemed to be racing in a large cavern, or rather, a series of large caverns.

"Any signs of the Drones yet?" Lani asked, talking into her headset.

Stephen couldn't hear anything, but from Lani's nod, it was apparent that these 'Drones' weren't there. What were Drones?

Something big and brown darted in front of the screen. Stephen shifted his weight, wincing when the vent groaned with his movement. The man looked sharply up in that direction. After a minute, he looked away. Stephen closed his eyes in silent relief, thankful that he wasn't discovered. Yet.

"Bats?!" Lani exclaimed, turning to exchange glances with the man.

The man shrugged and slowly made his way to the monitors.

Stephen blinked in surprise. Before, he had only been able to see part of the man, since the small confined space limited his viewing, especially since he had to stay fairly far from the entrance. The man was wearing a strange metal suit that almost looked like it held the man together. Examining it as best he could, Stephen realized that the man was, in fact, supported by the suit. It looked as though he couldn't walk without it.

Lani murmured something, leaning closer to the monitors.

The man pressed his headset closer, "You're using what?"

Stephen ground his teeth, suddenly wishing he was able to hack into their conversation. The video feed was all good and fun, but he couldn't hear what they were saying. Was it something important? Or nothing at all? He wished he knew.

Time passed. According to the large timer above the computers, the portal had been open for forty minutes. Stephen gazed at the clock curiously. What was it for, exactly? He remembered that it started a countdown from sixty minutes at the start of the race. Was it a countdown to the termination of the portal? Or was it just a 'best time' set by previous races. He was going to have to question GIG when the race was over. Stephen's brow furrowed. Suddenly, he had realized that the teams may not be going back to sleep after this race. That not only affected his 'prowling' time, but also his escape. GIG was an excellent robot, with phenomenal AI, but Stephen doubted that even GIG would be able to turn the alarm off long enough for him to leave, without the Acceledrome's occupants knowing.

Carefully scooting farther back in the vent, Stephen turned the wrist computer's screen back on. With a small stylus, he selected the schematics to the building. A revolving 3D image appeared, along with a second list beside it. Looking at the list, Stephen chose the 'Vents.' The image stopped its movement, and switched to a see through picture, with continual rectangular boxes highlighted. It didn't take long for Stephen to locate his position.

Glancing at the timer, he saw that fifteen minutes remained. Being noiseless as possible, Stephen backed up in the vent until he came to an adjoining one. Backing into that one, he turned so he could go forward in the same direction. Following his mini map, he made a few more turns before coming to the grating of his desired destination. Thankfully, it was easily removed. He looked at his watch. _Great, ten minutes. Let's hope that's more then enough time._

He looked around. The room was Dr. Tezla's personal laboratory. Apparently, no one but Tezla ever came in here. It was large, dimly lit, and mostly stainless steel. _Classic futuristic science lab. _A single car graced the middle of the room. It was very odd; the body was silver, with a purple windshield that was extended from the back of the car to the front, no breaks in the glass for a normal roof. Cautiously, Stephen moved closer, unused to this design. Even for concept cars, this was unusual. It was obviously meant for racing, and Stephen had a feeling that it was for realm racing. He didn't touch it, not knowing what kind of security measures the man would have taken for the vehicle.

After another moment, he walked away. On a table next to the wall, several monitors were set. They each watched different rooms, one was in the computer room, and Stephen was able to listen in on the sparse conversation. Conversations that seemed to be one-sided. Others went to different areas, hallways, a cafeteria, a kitchen, the main area, and garages, to name but a few. None of them had the room he was in now. Good.

In front of the monitors, papers were strewn about, with math problems and designs scribbled all over them. Apparently, Tezla wasn't one for organization. At the end of the table was a picture. Two people were standing in front of a Christmas tree. It looked like it was from the '60s or '70s. The color was faded, and their hair styles were…_Old._ Stephen decided. The woman was very pretty, blond hair, blue, sparkling eyes. The man was handsome, dark brown hair, gray, intelligent eyes. Stephen leaned closer, looking. The man had to be Dr. Tezla, but he was also the man in the computer room.

_So, who's the lady?_ He wondered.

He looked around again. A filing cabinet stood against the wall next to the door. Unusual for a place so filled with technological wonders. Using a lock pick, he unlocked the drawers and started flipping through the files. Teku and Metal Maniacs labeled the two front folders in the top drawer. Picking up the Maniacs folder, he leafed through it. It was a file on the rough looking team, but there were more than three drivers, as he had first suspected.

There was Tork Maddox, a big African American fellow, 6'4", apparent leader of the team. A lover of sports, played quarterback on is high school football team-before he dropped out. Started toying with cars at the young age of eleven. Oldest of three children, father had left at his birth. Mother died when he turned seventeen. Started Metal Maniacs five years ago, fierce competitor of Teku.

Mark Wylde(1). 6'3", muscular, inmate for eighteen months. Drove with Wave Rippers in the Highway 35 World Race. Younger brother, and rival, of Kurt Wylde(2) of the Teku. Short temper, impulsive, but skilled behind the wheel. Emotions just often get the better of him. Parents died when he was ten. Youngest member of Metal Maniacs.

Taro Kitano(1). Serious, stoic, quiet, muscular, excels behind the wheel. 6'4", Japanese immigrant; U.S. citizen since he was 8. Parents live in Washington, retired. Former Scorchers leader in Highway 35 World Race. Began racing with Metal Maniacs six months after World Race.

Deezel Riggs. Muscular, big, short-tempered, _has fear of water_. 6'7", Southern red-head. Father died when Riggs was five; mother still lives in Alabama, works as restaurant owner. Riggs has been racing with Metal Maniacs since the team was founded. Moves the new cars in semi known as 'Old Smokey.'

Mitchell McClurg. Smallest member, most fearful, mechanic, fair driving skills. 5'10", red-head, middle-aged, close companion of Riggs. Prefers to stay off the track. Adopted, original name is Smith. McClurg family adopted him when he was eight. McClurg has been racing with Metal Maniacs since the team was founded.

Stephen looked back at the Kitano and Wylde pages, noting the explained asterisks at the bottom.

_(1) More information in WR file._

_(2) Teku member, also in WR._

Stephen replaced the folder and picked up the Teku file. It was set up as the other one, individual files in the folder for each team member. Their pictures and date of birth above the rest of the information. He took out the first one, which had minimal information.

Tone Pasaro. Deceased former leader of the Teku. Killed in a race against Metal Maniac leader Tork Maddox(1).

Nolo Pasaro. Younger brother of deceased Tone Pasaro. Short temper, aggressive, skilled behind the wheel. 6'0", racing since the age of sixteen, took over the Teku team when Tone Pasaro died six months ago. Parents are deceased, when Pasaro was age twelve. Hates Metal Maniac lead Tork Maddox.

Josef "Vert" Wheeler(2). Winner of the Highway 35 World Race. Cocky, fantastic driving skills, a bit tactless. Wheeler is the son of Major Jack Wheeler of the Silencerz. Mother is deceased, died of car wreck when Wheeler was ten. Former team leader of Wave Rippers, joining Teku six months after the World Race.

Kurt Wylde(2). Former lead of Street Breed, and spy of Gelorum. 6'3", serious, somewhat short tempered (calmed down since WR), excels behind the wheel, older brother of Mark Wylde(3). Wylde has been racing since the age of eighteen in the Grand Prix, was suspended for a short period of time five years later. Retired two months after the World Race, joined Teku four months later. Seems to design cars, it is unknown if they have ever been manufactured.

Karma Eiss. 5'11", serious, calm, level-headed, perfectionist. Has been racing since eighteen, member of Teku since the team was founded, parents retired in Canada. Excels behind the wheel. Only child, but seems to have a familial relationship with the Pasaro's. It is unknown of what kind.

Shirako Takamoto. 5'9", phlegmatic to an extreme, music oriented, mechanic, quiet. Takamoto moved from Japan to America at age fifteen, started racing a year later, and has been a member of the Teku since the team was founded. Parents still work as the business owners of a small restaurant in northern California.

_(1) Metal Maniac member._

_(2) More information in WR file._

_(3) Metal Maniac member, also in WR._

Stephen put the folder back. Now he had a little more information on the teams and their drivers, but still not much on Dr. Tezla, except that he liked hard copies as well as computer files. Checking his watch, he searched for the World Race folder, intending to come back to that at a later time. His eyebrows raised in surprise as he saw that there were actually five folders in a drawer. These were labeled 'Wave Rippers', 'Street Breed', 'Road Beasts', 'Dune Ratz', and 'Scorchers'. So there were more teams.

_Why didn't he just call these teams back? _Stephen wondered.

He checked his watch again. Five minutes left. He walked over to the computer and started typing in commands. His gloved hands flew over the keys as he searched for some sort of weakness in the system, an opening for him to hack into from his hotel room. He glanced over at the monitors. All of the drivers had returned, and were having a meeting with Tezla and Lani in the conference room. Pressing his lips together, Stephen tried to hurry up the process. If they stayed there long enough, he just might be able to go through the vents, exit into the computer room, make his way to his car, and get out.

There! He memorized the code, running it through his mind several times. Turning away, he returned to the vent, climbed in, and made his way through. About half-way there, he stopped. He heard voices. The conference room! Reaching down to his belt, he grabbed a rectangular device, activated it, and slid it toward the grating the voices were coming from. Now he had ears in the conference room.

Sliding faster through the vent, he came to computer room. Looking through the grating, he saw no one. He dropped silently in, walked over to the machine and looked for the controls to the alarm. After searching a few files, he found it and turned it off. While walking away, he looked down at his wrist computer. Hooking up his head set to the conference room bug he had 'set' he listened in. From what he could tell, they were wrapping it up. His eyes widened, he forgot about cameras! Before opening the door, he took out a small mirror. Angling it carefully, he soon located the camera, which was cleverly disguised. But, with training like his, it wasn't clever enough. Thankfully, the camera was at such a spot, it most likely didn't see his face at all.

Taking out his jammer, he aimed it at the mirror. With any luck, the frequency would bounce off and reach the camera. It did. He looked out the window, hoping to catch sight of the other cameras. He found them. Opening the door, he dashed out, aiming the jammer at each cameras while he ran down the steps. In his ear, he could hear Tezla closing the meeting. Calling out the headset's microphone, he spoke in the same language into it. His car, a black Enzo Ferrari, reappeared. Jerking open the door, he turned on the engine and started driving.

As soon as he exited the strange building, the big door on the far side of the garage opened, drivers from both teams entering.

* * *

Lani walked into the computer room. A blinking on a nearby monitor caught her eye. She walked over to investigate. That was odd, why was the alarm switched off? She turned it back on, and turned to leave. Maybe Dr. Tezla would know why.

She winced, raising a hand to her cheek. Ooh, that really hurt…

* * *

Dr. Tezla entered the code to his personal laboratory. GIG was in the hallway, probably seeking to come in. The hover computer had access to his room, but when entering or exiting the lab, he insisted that the robot stay out of the room.

The door swished open, and he looked around. For some reason, he had a feeling that something wasn't right. He raced to his computer and accessed his files. Someone had been in here, not ten minutes ago, looking through it. He looked over at his filing cabinet. It looked normal, but when he opened it, he saw that the folders had been looked through- and not by him!

* * *

**Well...that was a little longer than the last ones. Thanks for reading and please review. Anon. reviews accepted.**


	5. Ch4 The Fam and Other Stuff

**Hey, look what I finally updated! Um...there's not much to tell. It's mostly talking...I'm pretty sure.**

* * *

Stephen stepped out of the bathroom rubbing his hair with a towel. It was seven o' clock the next morning, and the young agent was already dressed for the day, wearing dark, relaxed jeans, and a white t-shirt, over which he began pulling on a casual button up shirt. He tossed the damp towel on the room's sofa and plopped himself down on the bed. There, he reached for his laptop and started searching through the files that he had accessed with his wrist computer.

To his chagrin, the files were still in their coded forms. He typed in commands and pulled up a few programs, getting it all translated into readable texts. One file was meant to be read as was, so Stephen sent it to a branch of the CIA that specialized in this. They would interpret it and send the information to the head of this operation: a military officer Stephen only knew as the Major.

From the limited information Aaron had provided him, Stephen had learned that the Major was also part of a special unit that did a lot of scientific study and research in this. They also were doing some extensive 'car research'-or at least that's how they put it. Rumor was that they were out to make the best cars in the world. Apparently they had borrowed some technology from this guy in the Drifter division, hired Dr. Tezla, and started experimenting with cars.

Well, Dr. Tezla worked for them until he decided to retire from the military business. And reportedly, with him went some of their key technological designs. The afore mentioned drifter was in the Acceledrome, but they wanted someone to work from the outside-which didn't make too much sense in Stephen's mind, but he was doing it anyway.

His phone began ringing as soon as he sent the file. Picking up the small contraption, he glanced at the caller I.D. **Home**.

Opening it he greeted the person on the other line with a British accent. "Hello?"

"_Stephen, it's Josh. Ashely's been wondering when you were going to be home." _The answering voice said, also with an accent.

Stephen smiled. "Is she the only one wondering? Or did you want to know too?"

"_She does. Why?"_

"Well, mayhap it's because you are the one calling, and she isn't. Is everything alright at home?"

Josh snorted._ "Yes everything's fine. Honestly, Stephen, I couldn't care less about when you were going to be home. It's been perfectly normal without you, and can carry on like that for as long as you're gone."_

"Honestly, little brother, you actually wish I was home right now." Stephen chuckled.

"_Riiight. As it happens, I'm the only one in the house that doesn't care about you're being gone."_

"Which is probably only true because nobody is paying attention to when you get to bed."

"_Um. Yeah. Right."_

Stephen laughed. "Someone has actually been paying attention to that?"

"_Unfortunately, Baldy, our dear little brother, has been coming into my room, looking like a zombie, saying I should get off the Xbox, and go to bed."_

"And, at what time has he been doing this?"

"_Um…do you really want to know?"_

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

"_Oh…2:30…AM."_

Stephen sighed and leaned back. "First, what are you doing up so early? And second, why was he awake?"

"_First, I don't pay attention to the time. And second, ever since chemo began, he has a hard time sleeping through the night, remember?"_

"Yeah…I know."

"_So, when are you going to be home?"_

Stephen glanced at his laptop screen before answering. "I'm not sure. Maybe in a few weeks."

"_A few weeks? Stephen! These, so called, business meetings aren't supposed to take that long!"_

"I know, but, sometimes, there are exceptions."

"_Like now."_

"Yes, like now."

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. _"Alright."_

Stephen had to smile. "See? You do miss me!"

"_Oh, be quiet. I guess I'll see you in a few weeks then?"_

"Yeah. Say hello to the little sibs for me."

"_Will do. Bye."_ Josh hung up.

Sighing, Stephen closed his phone and went back to work. He had three siblings at home, one of whom, Ryan, had leukemia. Ever since their parents died, when Stephen was 8, he became the 'father' of the family. They moved to England to live with their Aunt and Uncle, but moved back ten years later when Stephen was old enough to inherit the family business-horses. Coincidentally, the drifter fellow was in the same business. So, Stephen came home first, where the staff had never stopped working, but never selling horses, except to private owners, where his younger siblings joined him a few months later.

The problem was, the CIA had recruited him when MI6 at taken a notice of him, only to find out that he was American. Josh and Ryan, who are fifteen and thirteen respectively, started to get suspicious of these 'business meetings' because of their length of time. But, still, Stephen managed to keep them calmed down. He only hoped that a serious injury didn't happen in the near future, while his younger brothers and sister were still living at home. He had to admit, he was especially worried about Ashely.

She was only one when their parents died, and had become very attached to her Aunt and Uncle, and exceedingly fond of Stephen. It nearly broke her heart when it was discovered about Ryan's illness, and leaving England almost sent her into a deep depression. But, she was extremely friendly and soon had no problem with fitting in with her new American class mates. Although she had plenty of things to keep her busy when Stephen was away, she still hated it when he left.

He soon lost track of time, and after going through every file he had obtained, Stephen checked the time. 8:30, time for breakfast. Closing the computer, he placed it in the rooms safe. He reached for his gun, only to pull back, reasoning that since he was only going to be in the hotel's cafeteria, he wouldn't need it. Laughing quietly at himself, Stephen grabbed the room key and left the room. Paranoia had become a slightly annoying problem since his recruitment.

After a quick breakfast of Bagels and cereal, he headed back up into his room, and was greeted with the ringing of his phone. This time, it was HQ.

Picking it up, he answered, "Dawes."

The conversation was mostly him answering questions asked on the other line. They wanted to know if he had noticed anything else. After about half-an-hour, they switched him over to another division.

"_Stephen? This is Jerry," _The new voice said.

"Hello, Jerry. Anything new?"

"_Yeah, I was listening in on your conversation-"_

"That's not nice."

"_-and it sounds like the lady in the picture was Dr. Tezla's wife."_

"Was?"

"_Yeah, apparently she died a while back."_

"A while being…?"

"_The sixties. Tezla's been a widower for forty years. That might explain his eccentricities."_

"Eccentricities?"

"_Yup. He's kinda weird. Or, so I've heard. The Silencerz have mentioned him as stand-offish in their reports. His people skills are okay, but he's bordering mad scientist. The only thing in between him and that title is the way he thinks. He's too logical."_

"Too logical? It seems I've hear otherwise."

"_Yeah, but he is. He's just got some seemingly far-fetched ideas."_

"Seemingly."

"_The cars, for instance. Their not as fast as the Drifter's, but for the speed they do get, he uses a special fuel called 'Nitrox 2'. I'm not sure what happened to the first one, but I don't think it ended up so well."_

They both chuckled at the thought. How could one not imagine an older scientist with black all over his face and lab coat, leaving his hair sticking up crazily.

"_Anyways, he's the one that figured out the portals and got a large group of drivers to come and race in the realms."_

"How on earth did he convince them to do that? I don't think I'd believe anyone who told me about 'realms'."

"_Neither would I. And my guess is, he knew drivers wouldn't either. He didn't tell them. All he did was provide them with awesome cars, and tell them that he was looking for the best driver in the world."_

"Ah. Is that it?"

"_For now. I'll try to get more info on the other drivers for you."_

"Alright. Goodbye."

"_Bye."_

Stephen hung up and sat for a minute before grabbing the laptop and googling Peter Tezla. This man had caught his interest.

**Well...yes, he owns a horse-breeding-thing. So, I like horses. They's amazing. Review?**


	6. Ch5 A Challenge

**Here ya guys go.**

* * *

Lani and Nolo entered the Starbucks and walked toward the counter.

"Honestly, Nolo, I don't need a bodyguard!" Lani was saying, lowering her tone as they entered the building. Her bruise was much better, but still evident on her face. Several people had given her odd looks when passing her by.

"Lani, we can't just take any chances. At least for a few weeks. C'mon! You're our mechanic, medic, conversationalist when we're driving…"

"Conversationalist? Since when did you start using big words?"

"Hi, welcome to Starbucks," the girl at the register interrupted.

They placed their orders, and as soon as they received their drinks-a tall decaf cappuccino and a grande café latte-they took seats in the corner.

"Well," Lani began, continuing their conversation, "It _is_ really sweet of you guys. Though it'd be painfully obvious what you all were doing if it was…I dunno, Taro, Tork, or Porkchop."

"Not Wylde?" Nolo asked, curious that she left him out.

"Do you honestly think he'd do that?"

"Actually, I don't think any of the Metal Maniacs would do it."

"Taro would be less likely to do it, out of the three. Porkchop doesn't like you Teku, but he seems to be fine with me. He's actually kinda sweet-"

Nolo snorted.

"-And Tork…well, he'd probably do it. He seems like the type."

Nolo frowned darkly. "The type? You mean the type that would willingly protect someone's back, no matter what? No way, Lani. He's a murderer."

"Nolo, when are you gonna let that go? You're messing up your races with that," Lani replied.

Instead of answering, he stared moodily out the window. For a few minutes, both were silent. Presently, however, Lani noticed his features change from anger, to awe. His lips moved to form a Spanish sentence, but she couldn't catch what, when the roaring of an engine caught her attention as a red Enzo Ferrari pulled up next to the building.

The whole shop fell quiet as everyone realized just what had come into their proximity. All eyes were on the powerful vehicle as murmurs of the name of the famed car producer.

Only one patron of the store didn't seemed all that impressed as she asked her mother in a loud whisper, "Mommy, what's everybody so excited about?"

Quiet, sheepish giggles mingled with the mother's response as the owner of the car stepped out of the vehicle and started walking toward the door.

The owner was a young man of about eighteen to twenty years of age, tall, brown haired, nicely styled in the way teenage boys had been doing lately. As he pulled the door open, at the same time taking his sunglasses off, a few girls giggled again, whispering among themselves with silly smiles and flushed cheeks. If he noticed this, he didn't show it. In fact, from the way he coolly walked passed them, not even turning his eyes in their direction, it was obvious that he didn't want to respond to their flirty smiles which quickly disappeared from their faces.

Lani stared hard at him, vaguely recognizing him. Nolo glanced over once then went back to drooling over the car.

When the guy made his order, Lani heard the light British accent, and softly exclaimed, "Stephen!"

Stephen turned and upon seeing her, smiled and held up his index finger to say he'd be right over. The other girls shot her dirty and jealous looks, apparently planning their plans of deadly revenge.

After a moment he picked up his latte and strode over to her. Pulling up a chair, a greeted Lani with a polite nod, turned to Nolo, and said, "Like my car?"

The Latino's head whipped over and finally acknowledged Stephen's presence. "Uh, yeah. It's fantastic! How did you get your hands on that?"

Stephen gave a long and sacrificing sigh. "Through a long and thorough process. It's insane what one has to do to own one of those. It was one of the few that _hadn't_ been sold."

"But that was a few years ago. How'd you get your hands on one of those?"

"Let's see…about four years ago. In 2004, they were shutting down their production of the cars-they only made four hundred. My Uncle managed to get one, under my parent's name, and shipped here to the US, and when I arrived earlier this year, that's what was in my garage."

Nolo smiled broadly, "That's a way to come home. I'm a little surprised your parents agreed, and could afford it."

Stephen smiled sadly. After a moment of silence, he replied. "My parents are dead. I've lived in England for ten years. I only came home to run the family business. We raise race horses, and it's good money, so, that wasn't much of an obstacle."

Lani looked at him curiously and asked, "If you didn't even get the car until a few months ago, how come you know it was difficult to get?"

"He actually took me through the process when I was fourteen. Told me that it was good experience for me. And I'm quite happy to. It was an incredible experience, and an incredible car."

"I'll bet. How fast does it go?" Nolo inquired.

Stephen stared off into space as he answered. "Left alone, the car can go two hundred twenty-five miles an hour. With a few modifications, one can make it go much faster."

Nolo smiled. "Ever raced in it?"

Stephen raised an eyebrow. "No, actually. Not officially."

"Would you have time to do it tonight?" Nolo leaned forward.

"Maybe. Where?"

"Shore Road. If you're familiar with it."

"I could find it. When?"

Nolo thought for a moment. "One. Maybe two."

Stephen raised his other eyebrow. "That's a time to take note of. Do you always race that late?"

"I'm a street racer. Can't do much otherwise. I'm Nolo, by the way." He reached out a hand.

Stephen took it. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Stephen."

The corner of Nolo's mouth lifted slightly, "Ah, the acclaimed Stephen who gallantly saved Lani from the evil brutes that wickedly attacked her in broad daylight."

Stephen chuckled while Lani looked over in surprise. "Why, Nolo! Your vocabulary surprises me to no end. Since when did you use such big words?"

"Gallantly? Is that the word you used, Lani?" Stephen asked, still smiling.

"No, actually, I did not."

Nolo's smiled turned slightly sheepish. "Actually, that was made up by Vert. I couldn't come up with something like that to save my life."

Lani looked skeptical. "To be honest, I'm a little surprised that he did."

They all laughed a little over it.

Stephen rose from his seat, saying, "I'll try to make it. I'll be there by midnight. I've got some meetings tomorrow to attend, which mark the end of my trip here. So, I'm hoping to get some sleep in before those."

Nolo nodded. "Alright. If I'm not there, then one of my teammates will be."

"Good. I'll see ya then." With that, Stephen walked toward the door.

One of the girls from earlier "casually" walked his way, and made as if to bump into him. However, Stephen made the first move.

The girl screamed in shock as he "accidentally" ran into her and spilled what was left of his latte all over her shirt.

He mumbled some apologies, barely suppressing a grin, while she screamed in anger and frustration at him. Many of the other patrons were also having trouble keeping their giggles to themselves, while a few guffawed right out.

After a few seconds, Stephen silently slipped out and drove away.

* * *

Stephen popped open his laptop upon entering his room. He searched for particular signal, and soon found it. Within this signal, he found saved files of recorded conversations. Opening them, he listened.

"_Someone broke into my private office and has hacked into my computer files, and I want to know who it was." _Stephen identified the voice as Dr. Tezla.

"_Probably Kurt." _Stephen didn't know who this guy was, but recognized the accent as one from New York. He could almost imagine Kurt shooting glares at him, though.

"_Shut up, Markie! It wasn't me. I didn't even know Tezla had a private office."_ Kurt's voice? It must've been. And the New Yorker was Markie.

"_I will find out," _Dr. Tezla said, heatedly.

Stephen smiled at this, he wanted to know. For him, at this stage, this was like a game of hide-'n-seek. He hid in the shadows, going about doing his job, while the 'client', as they called them, tried to figure out who was there, if they had picked up a clue.

Then he frowned. He hadn't been careful enough when going through the doctor's computer, and now the man was suspecting. _Well,_ Stephen thought. _I'm going to have to be much more careful._

Just then, his cell began to ring. Reaching over, he grabbed it from the nightstand and answered. "Hello?"

"_Stephen? How are things going?"_

Stephen smiled. "Hey, Aaron. Fine, one of clients challenged me to a race."

"_A race?"_

"Yeah, you know, car race. Tonight, around twelve."

"_How did you meet up with them?"_

"Starbucks. That girl I saved? She saw me."

"_Hm. Are you gonna do it?"_

"I dunno. Should I?"

Aaron snorted loudly. _"Of course! You might pick up more info! Unless you think you're being set up, which I seriously doubt, always go for the chance to be with them more. Never know what kinda things you'll pick up."_

"Alright. Anythings special for me?"

"_Nah, just checkin' up on you. Oh, Jerry might call later, said _he _had something for you."_

"Good, I'd appreciate it."

"_Alright then. See ya."_

"Bye." Stephen flipped the phone closed.

He sat on the edge of the bed for a minute, thinking about various things. Finally, he rose and headed for the door, grabbing his keys along the way. Maybe the receptionist would know about this 'Shore Road."

* * *

Nolo sat chewing his food in silence, not paying attention to the conversations going on around him.

"Hellooo. Earth to Nolo, come in, Nolo!" He jumped at the sound of Lani's voice.

"Huh? What-what'd I miss?"

The other Teku smiled at his bemused expression.

"Well," Lani began. "Nothing, just mechanical talk about the cars. You've been lost in space for the past five minutes. What's on your mind?"

"Nothin'."

"Uh-huh. Thinking about that race tonight?"

"Race?" Vert asked, clearly interested.

Kurt nodded and Karma looked at Nolo, both wanting to know as well.

"Uh, you know that guy that helped Lani? I met him today and challenged him to a race."

"You what?" Karma said, her voice dangerously calm. "Nolo, you can't just do that. We're working for Dr. Tezla, I don't think he'll like that."

Nolo sighed. "He doesn't have to. Look, it'll only be one of us, me if I'm available, and him. That's it."

"Why did you challenge him anyway?" Kurt asked, before taking a bite of his sandwich.

"He has a Ferrari. I wanted to see if he could."

Kurt began choking on his food, earning looks from both teams. "You challenged a Ferrari?!"

"And not just any Ferrari," Lani spoke up. "An Enzo Ferrari."

The Metal Maniacs, who had become mildly interested when Kurt started dying on his food, now stared intently at the table. None of them liked to use exotic or foreign cars, but hey! Ferrari's were legends. They didn't seem them too often, and when they did, the cars were usually wrecked.

Monkeys jaw had dropped to the floor. When he had managed to get it back up to his face, he said, "An…an…an…Enzo…Ferrari?"

Everyone turned to look at him. The Maniac seemed to be staring off dreamily into space.

"Oh man. Do you think I could come? I've been dying to see one up close again!"

"Again?" asked Porkchop, surprised at this statement.

"Yeah. Last time I saw one, I was lucky enough to look at the engine. It was beautiful…with only a few minor adjustments, you could easily make it go as fast as any of our nitrox charged cars."

"Seriously?" Vert asked.

"Are you kidding?" Kurt began, warming to the subject immediately. "That car was designed after the Formula 1 cars. It's _made _for racing. I've driven one once. Friend brought it over to the track, let me take a spin in it. It's incredibly responsive, and it shifts gears like an F-1 does."

"Care to explain how that is to those who don't know?" Vert requested.

"A flick of the fingers. That's where shift gears, right in front of the wheel, you flick your finger and you're in a new gear. That's why it's hard to drive that well in an F-1. You can't just drum your fingers on the wheel, unexpectantly shift gears and not be able to conform that quickly to the change. You've gotta know when to do it."

The room was silent for a moment. Then Tork spoke up. "A Maniac's on this one."

Before anyone could protest, the alarm went off. Lani raced off to the computer room while the other drivers made their way to the garage, listening to the intercom.

"The following drivers will enter the race. Nolo Pasaro, Vert Wheeler, Shirako Takamoto, Tork Maddox, Taro Kitano, Mark Wylde."

The selected drivers ran to their cars and began their race.

**

* * *

**

Alright, that seemed longer than usual, though I don't think it is. Anywho, please review. Yes, that rhymed. I accept flames, critique, and of coure the good ol' fashion nice review. I've also got a poll on me profile, please look at that, and answer honestly. -Jimmy


	7. Ch6 A Race

**Here. It's here. Happy days. **

* * *

Nolo cried out in pain as Lani set his leg back into place. Kurt and Vert let go of his shoulders, both wincing in sympathy at the scream. Beads of sweat appeared on the young leader's forehead as he tightly closed his eyes in pain.

Lani placed the metal cast-like structure on his broken leg, and gave him an encouraging smile. "Don't worry, Nolo. Before you know it, your leg will be good as new!"

"Thanks, but don't talk to me like I'm five!" He growled, covering his face in his hands.

He was a mile from the portal when a Drone had snuck up and totaled his car. From the other driver's reports, he was lucky to be alive.

"What am I gonna do?" He moaned, to know one in particular.

"Well, for starters, get some rest," Kurt answered.

"NO! I mean about the race tonight!"

Lani looked up. "You said it would either be you, or one of your teammates. Send someone else."

Nolo sighed, thinking it over. "Alright. Kurt, you go."

Kurt raised his eyebrows in surprise. "When?"

"I said one or two, but he said he'd be there by midnight."

Kurt looked at his watch. "I've got about two hours. Where did you say you'd meet him?"

"Shore Road."

"So whatcha gonna do about the race tonight?" A deep voice asked from the doorway.

Nolo lurched forward, hissing in pain when his leg started to move. "Why do you need to know?"

Tork shrugged. "Just wondering. Good luck with that leg." Tork left and headed for the garage.

Nolo glared at his retreating form, barely acknowledging Kurt's clap on the back.

"I'm gonna go check up on my car," Kurt said, leaving the room.

Heading down the hall, he started jogging after a backwards glance. "Tork."

The big black man turned around. "Yeah?"

"I'm racing the kid tonight. You gonna come?"

Tork grinned. "You better believe it. Think I'd turn down a chance like this? No way."

Kurt smiled back. "Well, then, see you there."

* * *

Stephen backed away from the car's engine, wiping grease off his hands. He was constantly keeping his engine in tip-top condition, always ready for needed speed. He didn't know why he had accepted the challenge at first, maybe it was gut instinct, but after talking to Aaron, he was glad he did.

Slipping into the drivers seat, he started the car. The resulting purr was like music to his ears. He smiled slightly and half-closed his eyes, enjoying the sound of power coming from his car. Every once in a while, he took it to a closed track to race it. He loved the sound of it, the feel of the speed as his surroundings blurred when he went passed. At times, he even let it go on the open road, normally when Aaron told him too. That was usually when they were trying to get to an important place as soon as possible.

Working for the CIA certainly had its perks. That was one of them. Since the license number was in the system, when an officer of the law checked it in the computers, they knew not to bother it. But, they had given specific orders not to exceed the speed limit unless absolutely necessary.

Though Aaron had agreed that the race was good, Stephen still had to run it by his superiors. After careful consideration, they also gave the green light, believing it to be beneficial to his investigation. In fact, they were hoping it would be an invitation into the place. Well, that would have to wait and see.

His phone rang, jerking him out of his thoughts. "Dawes."

"_It's Jerry. Things are looking hopeful."_

"How so?" Stephen asked, getting out of the car and waving at a newly arrived hotel client, an older man looking enviously at the car.

"_Turns out, there are _two_ Drifters in the Acceledrome. That should hopefully get you in there."_

"That's great, except for one thing."

"_What's that?"_

"I thought the major wanted someone on the outside."

"_Well, he changed his mind. The two guys in there can't get much snooping time, since one of them is under suspicion, and the other…well, they both spend a large amount of time with their respective teams. They do most observant stuff, and they try to do some research on the Drones. Since you don't have a team, HQ's hoping your snooping goes better."_

"Oh. Okay, will I get to know who the Drifter's are?"

"_Nope, that's being kept quiet. I don't even know. I've got some guesses, but it's so that there are at least two Drifters doing the same civilian jobs. So, I know at least one of those occupations of those two, but I can't really narrow him down."_

"Alright. I guess it's best that way. Will they know who I am?"

"_Not sure. I don't think so."_

"Thanks Jerry," Stephen said, glancing at his watch. "Look, I've got to be at this Shore Road in an hour, so I've gotta go."

"'_Kay. See ya, and good luck!"_

They both hung up, and Stephen closed the hood.

* * *

Kurt glanced over at Tork, unused to the fact that it was just them. Markie had almost begged to come, but Tork was adamant. He would be the only Metal Maniac there. The same went with Kurt. Nolo heavily considered sending Karma with him, but the elder Wylde had convinced Nolo that he didn't need help.

They were driving along the weaving road, one side a cliff towering above the, the other, a cliff drop-off. Up ahead, in the turn around area their races usually started, a read Enzo Ferrari gleamed in the moonlight, someone leaning against it.

Both cars slowed to a stop in front of the powerful vehicle. The boy leaning against the car looked up, and studied them carefully as the got out of the cars.

Neither man knew what to do. This was unusual. The way the kid looked them up and down, studying everything about them and their cars, was slightly unnerving.

Finally, the kid spoke up in his soft accent. "Have you two been sent by Nolo?"

Tork shrugged. "More or less. I'm Tork. I'm assuming you're Stephen."

Stephen nodded. Then he looked at Kurt. "And you are?"

"Kurt. Kurt Wylde. Nolo said he challenged you to a race."

"He did. Where is he?" Stephen knew the answer. He acquired it from his bug in the vents.

"There was an…incident. Nolo couldn't make it," Kurt answered.

Stephen looked at him steadfastly, with his serious brown eyes, much older than he. Finally, he nodded. "Alright then. _We'll_ race. In which direction, and where will the course end?"

Tork smiled slightly. He liked how the kid called it a course. His smile widened a bit as he took in the lean frame and British accent. This kid was a softie, easy to beat.

They mapped out a few routes before agreeing on one. Then they started.

They lined up carefully, each going at about thirty miles an hour. At a certain marker, they would begin the actual race.

* * *

Stephen looked on either side of him. He bit his lip nervously; he realized that the two drivers were seasoned and much more experienced than he was. He had only gotten his license at the age of seventeen because of the laws in England. A year ago.

Tork Maddox, he knew from research, had at least fifteen years of driving experience, most of it being street racing. He only had to google Kurt Wylde to see that the guy was a renowned racer. The guy had won several Grand Prix races; he's a pro!

Stephen's eyes flicked ahead, seeing the marker, not far away. The only thing that gave him a reasonable chance of winning was the speed of his car. With a few modifications, Stephen gave his engine a few hundred more horse power, and the ability to go two hundred miles an hour faster than the original speed. The problem was, however, that he couldn't use it too much, or he'd give away the fact that he wasn't exactly and ordinary rich kid that happened to have saved Lani.

They reached the marker and gunned the engines, shooting forward, passing a speed limit sign that had 35 MPH.

Noticing that he was easily starting to pass up the other drivers, Stephen glanced down at his speed, and saw that he was quickly reaching the three hundred m.p.h. marker. He pushed a small, unobtrusive button on his dashboard, and the dashboard switched around a bit, revealing a computer screen.

Touching the options on the screen, he quickly restrained the speed that he could achieve to three hundred. The car immediately began to slow considerably, and the skill of the other drivers was quickly becoming apparent.

In no time they were beside him, both intent on the road ahead. It was going to take all of Stephens own skill and concentration to win this race-and hopefully get him a spot in the Acceledrome.

* * *

Kurt reached up and quickly placed the head set in his ear, making sure that it was unseen by the two other drivers.

"_Yellow," _a voice said.

"Bob, I have a question," he murmured into the small microphone.

"_Oh?"_

"Listen, I'm racing a kid named Stephen, I believe his last name is Dawes."

"_Uh…Dawes, Stephen…I've got a few. What's the description?"_

"Tall, brown hair, brown eyes…"

"_Got it. About eighteen?"_

"Yeah."

"_Yup. The major mentioned him. The kid works for the CIA-"_

"He works for the CIA? Surely not a field agent!" Kurt ejaculated.

"_Yes, he does, and please don't interrupt. Picked up as a possible agent a little over a year ago, when the kid still lived in England. MI6 took him in and placed him in a boot camp for the summer of his seventeenth year, they convinced the family that it was related to school. You know, a program for 'exceptional students.'"_

"Is he all that exceptional?"

"_Yeah, actually, he made great grades at his schools in Great Britain. I think that was one reason he was looked at."_

"So, why did MI6 pick him up?"

"_Location, location, location. Think about it: if some guy from America came and picked the kid up, do you think they'd be entirely convinced with it all?"_

"Nope."

"_Right. So, the got him, sent him to train with their special forces, and hooked him up with some CIA agents. When he arrived home, they gave him some of your technology to upgrade his car, and gave him an older agent to work with. Apparently, this is his first solo project."_

"So, what are we supposed to do?"

"_The major wants you guys to try to get him in. He's hoping that Dawes will have more snooping time than you."_

"Alright. We'll see what we can do. But, I dunno if they'll take my word for it that he should drive." Kurt said, lazily watching Tork edge his way ahead. Stephen had slowly gotten farther behind, but not so behind that the race was lost to him."

"_Good. See ya. White out." _Bob said, ending the conversation.

Kurt took off the head set and placed it in a hidden panel next to his seat.

Settling down, he smiled slightly and began to gain ground on the Metal Maniac leader.

* * *

Tork pressed down on his accelerator. This kids start was too good. Tork had only seen one kind of car start that fast, and he new that this Stephen didn't own that kind of car. It surprised him when the Ferrari seemed to slow suddenly, allowing him and Kurt to catch up.

Drawing even with the red car, he tried to get a glance inside. However, since the windows were tinted, it was impossible to tell what was going on in there. Slowly but surely, Tork was gaining ground, edging past the other cars. At first, he was certain that the only _real_ competition would be Kurt Wylde, but he was being proven wrong.

Up ahead was a narrow curve in the road, one that was hard to see past, and therefore hard to see if any one was coming. Normally, racing cars that had not blocked off the road filed in one at a time. They had explained this to the kid, so now the only problem was who would get there first-and Kurt seemed determined to do so.

In his rear-view mirror Tork could make out the Teku member coming up on his left, making is hard for the kid to get close.

Up ahead a fork in the road appeared. To the right, they continued on their present course, to the left, they turned onto the beach. Switching gears, Tork turned left and prepared for the sandy ground.

Directly behind him, he could see Kurt coming up quickly, it appeared that the Teku hadn't switched gears. Tork was at first confused, until he realized that Kurt was catching up quickly.

* * *

Stephen watched closely. At first, he wanted to go for first, but decided against it when he realized that he could run a better race by following the others for the first half of the race.

The Metal Maniac-Tork-had switched gears at the beginning of the turn, so he had noted. But, Kurt seemed to ignore the strategy completely, so Stephen followed suite. Right before hitting the sand, they both switched to the correct gears, easily catching up to the black man.

Stephen smiled as he once more drew even with the Maniac. Maybe this will be easier than he first thought.

He took a quick glance at their surroundings. Sand and sea water flew up behind the cars, scattering some of the moon light's path in the water. Stephen vaguely wondered if this was really okay for them to be racing on the beach.

* * *

Kurt breathed in the ocean air. The water lightly sprayed him during the race, but that didn't bother him.

He noticed that the kid mimicked him on the ramp, and was impressed at how well Stephen was doing. In a few miles, they would take a path that lead right back to the road, there they would turn around and finish the race. The turning point would be the hardest, and Kurt wondered how the kid would do.

Right now, the kid seemed to be struggling on his position ahead of Tork. The Metal Maniac leader had been fiercely jealous of his leading position, and was obviously trying to get it back.

* * *

Tork's brow was furrowed in deep concentration. He, too, was impressed at how well this Stephen drove-so far. Both He and Kurt were extremely experienced drivers, so he highly doubted that Stephen would win.

The turn came up fast. Tork positioned himself in such a way, that when he turned, he would be able to avoid hitting the other cars. He smiled to himself. This was going to be interesting.

* * *

Stephen bit his lip. The turn ahead was sharp, and he wasn't quite sure how to take it. Even he knew that it would be very difficult, so he wasn't going to count on Kurt's expertise for taking it. He wished he had more experience at driving at these speeds, but that was rare. Yes, he'd taken the car out to a track, but that was only a few times, the track didn't have turns quite like this.

Inhaling deeply, he mentally planned out how he would take it.

* * *

All three drivers were coming to the turn at excess speeds of two-hundred miles an hour. Any onlooker would cringe in anticipation to the turn, but two of the drivers were quite comfortable at taking it.

At the exact right moment, Kurt and Tork shifted gears and turned smoothly and tightly making the turn perfectly. Stephen had gauged the turn wrongly and slammed into the cliff side. He was slightly dazed, but in a matter of seconds, he was back on track, speeding up quickly.

Both Kurt and Tork had seen what happened, but they didn't react. They knew he wouldn't be harmed, having taken such hits in their careers many times.

In a matter of minutes, the drivers came upon the appointed 'finish line.'

No one paid any attention to another, totally focusing on the road ahead.

Two miles.

One mile.

Half-a-mile.

Finish.

Kurt one, but barely. He had just nosed ahead enough to win. Stephen was actually just behind Tork, the Ferrari coming half-way up the Maniacs car.

All the drivers slammed on the breaks, and exited their cars.

Kurt smiled at the teenager. "Good race. You tested me."

Stephen smiled slightly back. "Thanks. I didn't realize you'd be so hard."

Tork snorted and Kurt laughed.

Stephen opened his car door. "See ya."

"Wait," Tork called.

Stephen stopped, and looked up.

"What's your cell number?" Tork asked.

Kurt glanced at him, eyebrow raised. He had a vague idea at what the Maniac wanted, but not much.

Stephen studied him over. After a few moment's consideration, he gave it. And then he drove off.

For a few more minutes, both the other drivers conversed in low tones. Then they, too, entered their cars and left, heading back for the Acceledrome.

**There. Now you've read it. Know what happens now? You review!! :)**


	8. Ch7 To Hope Without Hope

**Alright, this is kinda short. Sorry it took me so long to update. I got stuck a few times.**

* * *

By the time Stephen reached his hotel, the whole left side of his body was aching tremendously. When he parked, he rested his head against the steering wheel, trying to deal with the pain. There was no doubt about it, he had severely bruised himself when he made contact with the cliff's side. Well, that's what if felt like; Stephen thought that the bruises just might not be as severe as they felt.

With a sigh, he exited his car and entered the hotel lobby. Because he had lost the race, Stephen was worried that he had not procured a spot in the Acceledrome. Walking through the doors, he placed upon his face a look of nonchalance, so not to worry, or arouse suspicions in others, the people he passed. He was deeply tempted to take the elevator; however, since he always took the stairs, the receptionist would notice this change in routine. So, up the stairs he went, hiding every wince that threatened to give away his pain.

Upon reaching his room, Stephen closed entered his bathroom and quickly, of somewhat stiffly, removed his shirt. He couldn't suppress his own gasp when he caught sight of the massive bruises he had so suddenly collected. They were a rather queer shade of yellow, causing his normally nicely tanned skin to take on a sickly hue. A few areas were only the usual odd purplish-black color, and needed not too much worries.

Taking note of the worst areas, his shoulder and rib area, Stephen redressed and went to get some ice.

Opening the ice machine on his level, he rather welcomed the cool blast of air that came from it. He obtained from it, two large bags of ice. Walking back to his room, he passed a fellow hotel patron; he saw the ice and gave him an odd look, one that wondered what on earth a young man would want with them. Stephen only nodded politely and smiled while he entered his room.

Pulling on a fresh T-shirt, Stephen tied the ice packs to the most affected areas. He winced slightly as he sat down and flipped on the television. His eyes were just drooping shut as Man vs. Wild droned on, when his phone rang. Jerking him to complete wakefulness.

"Hello," he slurred into the phone.

"_Stephen? It's Jerry. Did you make it?" _the excited voice on the other line asked.

Stephen sighed. "I highly doubt it. I lost the race."

"_What??!! You can't have lost! You've got one of the fastest cars…EVER!!!" _

"Dude, I know, but I still lost. I couldn't just beat them like that. I would've given myself away!"

"_True…maybe next time."_

Stephen sighed. "Maybe. Is this all you called me for?"

There was some silence on the other line._ "Pretty much."_

Stephen quietly chuckled. "Alright then. I'll…talk to you later."

"_Okey-dokey. Good luck…with…whatever you have going on next. Bye." _Jerry abruptly hung up.

Still smiling, Stephen closed his own phone and turned off the television. He need some sleep. And the ice was melting.

* * *

The two rival drivers entered the conference room, mild surprise showing on their faces as they were greeted by everyone else.

"How did it go?" Dr. Tezla asked, his face showing intense curiosity.

"Fine." Kurt replied, taking a seat next to Nolo.

"Who won?"

Tork scowled slightly, casting a dark glare in the smirking Teku's direction.

"Ah," Tezla nodded understandingly.

"Is this the only reason we're all in this room?" Tork asked, rather impatiently.

"Yes, actually."

"Why?"

Tezla's eyebrow's rose. "I want to know if he's good enough."

"Good enough!" Kurt exclaimed. He hated it how Tezla was constantly thinking of anything _but_ the safety of others. "You want to add him?"

Dr. Tezla gave him an annoyingly calm look. "Of course. I want as much chance at beating the Drones as possible, and another driver certainly wouldn't hurt things."

The elder Wylde glared darkly at the scientist, fuming that Tezla seemed to flippantly think about others lives.

"Yeah," Tork answered, casting a sly glance at the Teku member. "I'd say he's good enough. He had a great chance at winning, and showed some skill."

Tezla smiled a little. "Great! Now if we only had some way of contacting him…."

"Got it," Tork again answered. "I asked for his number, in case he wanted to race again."

Tezla widened his smile. "Excellent! Call him tomorrow morning, first thing!"

Tork nodded slightly, unsmiling.

Soon afterwards, Dr. Tezla dismissed them and they all headed into their rooms. It had been a long day, and they all wanted as much rest as they could get. Each one of the driver's were lost in their own mind, wondering if the guy was, in fact, good enough to race in the realms.

As the teams separated into their different hallways, Kurt caught up to Nolo. "How's the leg?"

"Huh?" Nolo looked up, slightly startled. "Oh, it's fine. I mean, it hurts."

Kurt kind of chuckled. "Alright, just wondering."

"Is he that good?" Nolo asked.

Kurt shrugged. "He's definitely good enough. I just hate how Tezla's so eager to get him involved."

"How good is good enough?"

The elder driver thought for moment. "Uhhh…well, he had a very good chance of winning. If it wasn't for the turn…I dunno, maybe he _would've _won."

"The turn?"

"Yeah, there was a sharp turn that he took badly. Slammed into the cliff wall."

Nolo winced in sympathy. "Ouch. That must've hurt."

"It most likely did. But, he survived."

"But, you still think he's good enough?" Nolo looked up, scrutinizing his friends face.

Kurt thought for a moment. Then sighed heavily. "He's good enough to race. If he's good enough to race in the realms while against the Drones…I'm not so sure about that."

* * *

Porkchop was ranting. "YOU LET SOME TEKU BEAT YOU!!!"

Tork looked at him placidly. "I didn't let him. He just had a better night than I did."

Wylde smirked. "If it was me, I woulda won."

Tork silently rolled his eyes at his egotistical companion. "Whatever…goodnight, you guys."

There were a few mumbled replies and only Monkey said it loud and clear. Tork entered his room chuckling, grabbed his phone and texted Stephen: **Hey, you're in.**

* * *

Stephen had just dumped the ice and was turning off the lights when his phone buzzed. For a moment he just stared at it stupidly, not thinking of a single person that it could be. When he actually did decide to pick it up, he saw that it was a text from an unknown person. Puzzled, he flipped it open and read it.

_I'm in? What does that mean? _He was too tired to think properly, but he did figure that Jerry could look up the number for him.

In a few minutes, the phone on the other line was ringing. _"I thought you went to bed."_

"I was just about, but I got a text from this number," Stephen rattled off the numbers and waited for an answer.

There was silence on the other end for a few minutes, save for some typing noises and clicking. _"Got it. The number belongs to a Tork Maddox. I think it's the same guy you raced tonight."_

It took a moment for it to click with Stephen. When it did, he could barely contain his excitement, exclaiming quietly, "Dude! I'm in! I made it!"

"_Hallelujah! Congrats, man. Do good." _Jerry replied, chuckling.

"Yeah, thanks. Goodbye." Stephen hung up without waiting for a similar reply.

Happily, the young man turned off the lights and fairly danced to the bed. Life was looking up. Sort of.

* * *

**Awwww!!! He's so happy! Heh heh...review please.**


	9. Ch8 A New Recruit

**Ummm....I just realized how long it had been since I updated this story. Yeah. November. I'M SO SORRY!! Well, it's finally here! **

* * *

Stephen woke up with a groan. His side and arm ached, and he couldn't remember why. He turned away from the window and towards the bedside table. His keys lay there splayed out, suddenly reminding him of the night's events.

With a smile, that was too goofy to be proud of, he rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling. He closed his eyes to go back to sleep, happy with himself. He was jerked back to complete wakefulness by his phone ringing. With another groan, he rolled over and grabbed the noisy device. _Why don't I ever turn it off?!_

"'Lo?" He mumbled.

"_Stephen?"_

The boy sat up, balancing on an elbow. "Aaron? Somethin' wrong?"

"_No…not really. I heard you made it," _The man said.

"Yeah, it's great. I lost the race, but I was good enough, apparently," Stephen replied, grinning.

"_Huh. So, how do you know, exactly?"_

Without thinking, Stephen shrugged. "I got a text from one of the guys I raced."

"_What did it say?"_

"You're in. Why?"

"_In? In where?"_

Slightly annoyed, Stephen answered. "I'm in those Acceledrome races."

"_Was that at all mentioned when you raced?" _Aaron asked pointedly.

Stephen swung his legs over the side of the bed and sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead as he replayed the night's conversations through his mind. Groaning yet again, this time in disbelief, he replied. "No. Not at all."

"_I see. So then, how on earth would this person know that you were trying to get in?"_

"I don't know. Maybe…maybe they talked about it there, and he accidentally replied that way…you know, sort of assuming I knew." Stephen winced at the excuse. It was pretty bad, but the only one he could come up with at the moment.

"_Plausible. But only barely. They came for a race, and that was just about it. You need to make sure it's not for just another race. Bye." _Aaron hung up without waiting for a reply.

Sighing, Stephen hung closed the phone. "Bye."

He fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling once more. Blowing hard, he opened his phone back up and texted back: **In? Where?**

* * *

Tork grunted as he heaved the new tank of Nitrox2 into place. While he was fastening it into place, his pocket vibrated. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he finished placing the fuel and pulled out the small phone to check the text. When he read it, he groaned at his mistake. _Of course the kid doesn't know! Why on earth did I say that?_

Thinking it over, Tork lowered the car to the ground, trying to come up with a reply. He popped the hood and searched the engine for anything…lacking. Grabbing a nearby tool, he went to work on it anyway. He couldn't just tell the kid that he was suddenly apart of extreme racing in realms that were of another dimension, tracks made by aliens, and being pitted against robots who's aim was to take over the world. There was no way Stephen would believe that.

On the other side of the large garage, Shirako had music-or what he called music-playing, and Tork began to subconsciously tap his foot to the beat. Then he smiled and movement stopped all together. He knew exactly what he could say.

* * *

**Tonight, drive down Highway 35 for ten miles. Turn off the road and keep going until you find a large building. I'll meet you there at 11.**

Stephen stared at the message for a minute, not really seeing it. He figured that the large building must be near the Acceledrome. Then it hit him. That big, half torn down building he saw the cars go in. That must be it. But…he couldn't just text back '**Okay!!**' That would make him…gullible.

* * *

**What is this?**

Tork snorted. He hated having to explain things. Even if it was this little a thing to explain.

* * *

**Just racing.**

Stephen immediately gave the affirmative reply. Eleven O' clock.

He quickly grabbed his laptop and started sending sound files and codes to his superior's computers, so they would have access to the bug he had planted in the conference room. Noticing the size of the files, Stephen decided to shower while they were being sent. Then, he would look over them himself.

In minutes the teenager was plopping down on the bed, water droplets flying from his still wet hair. Clicking on a sound file, Stephen listened intently to the conversation. In the conversation, the drivers and Dr. Tezla were discussing whether or not Stephen was to be allowed to join them. Well, sort of.

From the tone of their voices, it was clear that Dr. Tezla and Kurt Wylde weren't exactly the best of friends. Tezla seemed to have made up his mind before the results of the race were even announced. Which, apparently, infuriated Kurt. From the sounds of things, Tezla cared much more about winning and the scientific discoveries of the realms than the racer's lives.

Stephen stopped the recording. This realization that Tezla seemed more interested in what the realms held, than keeping drivers fully functioning made him stop and think about how potentially dangerous this could become. He had heard that the realms could be deadly, but had quickly brushed that off as stories meant to intimidate him.

Kurt sounded really upset. When he met him, Stephen had definitely not pegged the man as an emotional person. To back this up, Stephen quickly called up his file that had been sent to him. Stephen quickly focused on the personality segment, which confirmed what Stephen had suspected.

Shutting his computer, the young spy began to re-think this. The thinking was going on for a few minutes, until he realized, he really didn't have a choice.

* * *

Tork waited silently and patiently in the shadowy gloom of the huge, dilapidated building. Checking his watch, he was aggravated to see that it was quarter after eleven. Tork must've made some sign of his annoyance, because a tired voice sounded from nearby.

"Calm down, he'll be here soon."

The Metal Maniac leader glared at the offending Teku. "Shut up, Kurt."

"Is there a problem if he runs a little late?" Kurt was leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed.

"Is there a problem with my liking people to arrive on time?" Tork retorted.

"There is if you can't use self-control."

Dr. Tezla had thought it wise for both of them to meet Stephen, saying that the teenager would feel more comfortable with two familiar faces, instead of just one. Grudgingly, Kurt had agreed, still voicing his opinion on this being a bad idea. However, Tezla didn't even think about agreeing.

A few moments later, they both looked up at the sound of a distant car's engine. It wasn't long before they saw two headlights looming up out of the dark. In mere seconds, the red Ferrari roared up, it's sleek body gleaming in the moonlight. The engine was cut, and Stephen, looking like a rich English boy, got out of the car. Both the drivers could tell that Stephen was tensed and unsure, though he visibly relaxed when he recognized both of them.

He approached them, and asked, "So, what exactly is this all about?"

Tork replied, looking steadily at him. "It's about racing."

Stephen looked like he didn't believe them. "Really? Why is that so important?"

"It's not just any kind of racing. It's for the best, and your invited to join us."

Stephen hesitated. "Why should I?"

Tork was about to reply, when he, too, hesitated. He looked at Kurt, who shrugged, then back at Stephen. "It's hard to explain. But, if you follow us, you can find out."

Stephen laughed. "Again, why should I?"

This time, Kurt answered. "You don't have to. If you don't like it, you can leave."

After a few moments of silence, Stephen agreed. "Alright, let's go."

They all returned to their cars and drove off.

Of course, Stephen knew where they were going, but he followed them at a close enough distance that they would think he had no idea where to go. It was a little hard, but only because of the dirt kicked up by their wheels, and Stephen could instantly see why Kurt was a ways off to the side. The roofless car that he drove didn't protect him from the dirt in anyway.

It didn't take long before they arrived at there destination. The mountainous rock formation was even bigger than Stephen had first thought, and he couldn't help but gasp at the size of the thing. He didn't have long to wonder at it before they were suddenly in a maze of stalagmite formations jutting up twenty to thirty feet above the ground.

Kurt had gone ahead of the other two and was leading them through a weaving path toward the mountain. Stephen, having been led to the building a much different way for his previous work, was surprised with this. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no way of knowing what kind of entrance they would come to. It didn't worry him too much until he saw Kurt's car leap over a deep gorge that suddenly appeared.

"Whoa!" he cried, not sure of what to think.

It looked as if the car was just going to crash into the side, when it suddenly disappeared. Tork did the same thing, and before he quite knew what was happening, Stephen was doing it as well.

In mid-air, he let go of the accelerator, only to press down on it again, following the example set before him by the older men. It was a weird experience to be quickly coming up toward a stone wall, but go through it to enter a massive hall that led to an even larger room. It was all rather shocking.

As soon as he stopped, Stephen got out of the car and gazed in awe at his surroundings.

* * *

**There. Review? That would be awesome 'possum. -Jimmy**


	10. Ch9 A Race and Doubts

**I am a beast! I wrote half of this in one sitting! This is important, 'cuz, with this story, it's normally written over a period of several weeks. That's why it takes so long for me to update. Enjoy!**

* * *

Yes, he had already been inside the building and seen its massiveness. So, part of is awe was an act. However, the other part wasn't. The other time he had been there, it was darker, and he didn't have much time to soak it in. This time was different. Lights showed the rest of the room and helped heighten the look of the ceiling. Plus, he just kinda went through a stone wall. Doesn't that deny the laws of physics?

Gulping, Stephen looked back at the wall he just came from. There was no way he just went through a cliff wall.

"Heh heh, yeah, it took me a while too." The young spy looked over at the speaker, who was a smaller man with red hair that stuck out of a small cap. From the appearance of his clothes, Stephen guessed him to be a mechanic. Glancing around, he also guessed a Metal Maniac.

Looking at the bemused expression, the red head introduced himself, "I'm Monkey, the Metal Maniac mechanic."

"M'nM m," Stephen muttered to himself.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm Stephen." He held out his hand, which Monkey accepted.

Stephen noticed that Monkey was the only one to come forward, until he saw the older man in the metal suit walk over.

"I'm Dr. Peter Tezla," The man said.

"Stephen Dawes. Why am I here?" he asked, careful to keep the slight accent in his voice.

Though he couldn't see his eyes, Stephen was pretty sure they were radiating surprise. The scientists' voice held a hint of the emotion. "To race."

Feigning ignorance, Stephen looked as though he was clueless. "Oh? Where? The road?"

Instead of answering, Tezla motioned for the young spy to follow him.

Stephen complied and noticed that the other people followed as well.-some apparently knowing where they were going. However, making an educated guess, Stephen derived from his quick and agile mind that they were headed to the conference room. When he surmised that his hypothesis was correct and could now be called a theory/fact, he successfully struggled to keep the smug look of knowledge off of his face.

He also guessed that the drivers didn't _need_ to be there. They were just curious.

They entered the large room, and Stephen surveyed it with a look of mild curiosity. Dr. Tezla motioned for him to sit, and he complied. A few of the other drivers entered and stood in the back as the lights dimmed and his eyes were drawn to three massive screens. Within seconds, Stephen was being shown footage of elaborately designed tracks flying by. He could only guess that this was footage taken from the cars.

"This," Tezla said. "is where you will race."

Stephen raised his eyebrows, silently asking for further explanation.

"These are Racing Realms, created by the Accelerons. We gain access through a hologram of the Wheel of Power," Tezla pressed a button on the table and a mini hologram of the large ring Stephen had seen upon first entering the building popped up. "When this opens, you must be going 300 miles per hour to enter. In these realms, you will be tested for skill, racing against the racing Drones, all in hopes for winning an Accelecharger."

The clips from the realms played during the whole speech-however short it was. Once he finished talking, Tezla stopped the footage, ending on a portal with the realm emblem on it.

Following the end of this, a silence enveloped the room. But only for a short while.

Stephen looked up. He smirked. And he chuckled. "And you…expect me to believe all this?"

The scientist stared at him levelly from behind his purple glasses. "Every word."

Stephen's smile grew a little bit more. "Of course. I mean, it's completely logical in every sense. Honestly?" He stood, but before he could take a step an alarm sounded.

Instinctively, he turned in time to see the giant ring rotate to become three separate rings-creating the Wheel. In a very short period of time, a massive blue sphere was whirling in the middle of it. It once more amazed him to see it, but Stephen ramped up the look of disbelief on his face. After a minute, he looked around, but found himself standing alone.

At almost the exact same moment, he heard Tezla's voice over the intercom: "The following drivers will enter the realm. Nolo Pisaro, Karma Eiss, Kurt Wylde. Tork Maddox, Deezel Riggs, and Mark Wylde."

_Wylde. _Stephen's eyes narrowed as he watched cars one by one shoot into the ball. _Brothers._ He nodded. They were on separate teams, and hated each other. He mentally went through their backgrounds. Mark Wylde-Markie to his brother, and Wylde to his teammates-had spent two years in prison for a 'business deal' the brothers had done. From the file Jerry sent him, that's all he had learned. It hadn't given any more detail-saying it was classified.

He turned away from the window and started as he came face to face with GIG.

"If you would like to watch the race," the floating computer said, "follow me."

Stephen complied and soon found himself in another large room. The difference, this one had computers in it, and an island in the middle that had a smaller holographic wheel slowly rotating above it. Above the window, a large timer showed, counting down. He remembered this room. Then, he couldn't see all of the monitors. However, that was no longer a problem. Dr. Tezla was close by, also observing the race.

Yet, he still didn't know what the drivers were talking about.

This realm was interesting. It was all underwater.

"This is the Water Realm," Tezla said from behind him.

Stephen turned and accepted the proffered headset. It was an interesting race. Simply thrilling. They were floating slowly to the bottom of some ocean-like place.

"Taro, can you see anything?" Lani was asking.

Stephen didn't wait to hear the answer. He turned to Tezla and asked, "So, they enter that blue sphere-" he pointed to the portal "-and wind up in a different world?"

The scientist's lips formed a small smirk. "Yes."

The spy turned back to the monitors. He wasn't overly fond of the tone in Tezla's voice. Too…victorious? No, smug. It irked him terribly. Could the man please get over himself?

It wasn't too long before the drivers found the track. Soon, they were all racing through underwater tunnels, while mammoth fish swam around the track. By this time, Monkey had made his way up the computer room, and was trying to flirt with Lani.

"_I should've brought my board." _Vert commented.

Stephen looked questioningly at Lani, feigning ignorance.

She smiled and quickly replied. "He surfs."

He nodded and continued to watch the race.

Presently, the drivers came to a section of the track that was made of water. It was a tunnel with walls of water, but the center was dry. In order to go through, they had to accelerate across-and never slow. Within seconds, all of the drivers had made it through. All except one.

"You need to speed up Porkchop," Lani said, looking worriedly at Porkchop's monitor. "Porkchop?"

Stephen also turned his attention to that screen, wondering why the man wasn't accelerating. His mind reeled through all of the information he had taken in on these drivers. Despite his best efforts, some of it managed to get jumbled up and he mixed in drivers. But he finally realized what was happening.

The story flashed through his mind, and he couldn't keep himself from whispering, "He's afraid of water."

Lani glanced at him, while Monkey was shouting out orders into the microphone, GIG calmly correcting him on some error.

There was a sudden flash of light and a dark form was thrown from the portal.

* * *

Stephen looked in at Porkchop lying in the bed in the infirmary. Yes, you had known this job was dangerous. But, he somehow found this incident unnerving. He walked down the hall to his room, thinking about the possibilities of injury. Or death. Neither one of those sounded inviting. True, with his job, it was quite possible to get a serious injury. But, when the possibility of that happening was magnified, it made him stop and think about what would happen to his brothers and sister if and when it happened.

He had heard of agents making it through their entire careers without getting a single injury while on the job. But, that wasn't always going to happen. Someone once told him that a CIA agent making it through his career without an injury was like a kid going through life without candy. It just wasn't right.

He had laughed when that was first said, but, now it was infinitely more serious. Or at least seemed so. He picked up his phone and dialed Aaron's number.

It took a few rings, but the older man finally answered. _"Hello?"_

"Hey, Aaron, it's me," Stephen said, sitting down heavily.

He knew Aaron had to sort out which 'me' it could be, since it took a few seconds for the man to reply; and even then it was a question. _"Stephen?"_

"Yeah."

"_What's wrong?" _There was the sound of material rubbing against each other, and the creak of a bed or chair.

"Uh…" Stephen scratched the back of his neck, not sure how to put it.

"_Having doubts?" _Aaron suggested.

_Psycho. _"Um, yeah. Kind of." Stephen replied awkwardly. Normally, he was confidant and firm. But, this wasn't exactly a normal thing for him to feel, these doubts.

There was a deep sigh on the other end. _"What about?"_

"Uh," he pinched his nose. He started to say something, and then sighed. "This is gonna sound stupid."

"_Kid, to me, you always sound kinda stupid."_

"Thanks, that was really encouraging," Stephen smiled slightly.

"_Here, I'll guess again. Injuries?"_

_Okay, now this guy really has me creeped out. _"Yeah. I'm…worried."

"_About your family." _It wasn't a question.

Despite himself, Stephen nodded. "Yeah. I don't want them to find out, or to worry if I get hurt." He took a deep breath. "And I don't want them to have to got back to England."

Aaron knew what that meant. If Stephen was injured seriously, the truth would probably come out. If that happened, the government would have to take extensive measures that the information didn't go anywhere. If he was killed…the truth would definitely come out, and his siblings would have to go back to England, until Josh was old enough to claim his inheritance, and take over guardianship.

"_Yup. That's definitely something to worry about. But listen, you'll be well protected. Not much could happen."_

Stephen let out a short bark. "Yes, but you didn't see what I just saw! A man was just thrown a hundred feet at a hundred plus miles an hour! His leg is broken. These realms are much more dangerous than you thought."

"_I know. But, Stephen. You can't just go about your job freaking about every little possibility. If we all did that, where would we be? No where!"_

Stephen sobered a bit after this speech.

"_Look, I've gotta go. But, call me if anything comes up. Alright?"_

"Okay," Stephen answered curtly.

"_Bye."_

"Bye." He flipped his phone shut, and sat there thinking for a while.

Aaron was right. He couldn't just freak out over all the little details. But, Stephen always had Aaron with him, leading him through the whole thing. Details large and small were thought over and dealt with. This was a different experience when it all depended on you. There was no one to share the burden. No one could do much over the phone. This assignment was considered pretty small. But, as it was his first solo, it seemed too big.

* * *

Stephen carefully attached the small device into the hardware of the main computer. It would store a certain amount of information before it could hold no more. At this time, the information-whether it be data files, audio files, or video files-would be sent to a command site. These particular files had all the information having to do with the races.

Standing up slowly, Stephen recounted everywhere he had placed similar bugs. _In the computer controlling security footage. Tezla's computer-_the image of the unconscious doctor being controlled by GIG was still floating through his mind-_this computer. And the infirmary computer._ That was all he could think of.

He had also placed listening bugs in the team's 'living rooms.' Not much-if anything at all-could escape CIA intelligence.

Looking down into the garage, Stephen assured himself that no one was down there. And why should there have been? It _was_ three in the morning. He himself had been in bed until his alarm woke him at 2:15.

Now, he headed back down. He paused slightly to look at the car that Tezla had provided for him. It was a sleek machine, looking more like a TEKU car than Metal Maniac, though one would definitely know upon seeing it that it was not TEKU. It was a single color-a lovely chrome-and styled rather similar to a Lamborghini.

"Are you done?"

Stephen turned to see GIG floating silently next to him. "I take it Dr. Tezla's back in bed?"

"Yes."

Stephen nodded. "I'm done. Once I reach my room, you can turn the security system back on."

GIG nodded, and a few minutes later, Stephen was just about to get in bed when he heard the hum of the security system return. _Well, _he thought, _my job just got a lot easier with all those bugs. Let's see if Tezla ever notices them._

**Happy? Yeah, me too. Do me a favor, and share with me your thoughts. A quick review would be tremendous. -Jimmy**

* * *


	11. Ch10 Just Another Day Sort of

**Ta daaa!! I don't quite remember when's the last time I updated this. But, it seems like a while. So, here!**

* * *

Stephen's eyes flicked to the side in hopes of seeing a little farther ahead. At the moment, he was right behind Taro, and the Metal Maniac wasn't about to let him edge ahead. Around him snow whirled, making the strong winds visible. From the glimpses he was able to catch of the track ahead, Stephen could see some thick ice covering the track. Immediately, he slowed considerably.

Taro, however, apparently did not. Stephen slid precariously to a halt near the edge of the track as he helplessly watched the Metal Maniac driver slid away from view. With a push of the button, he was soon trying to make radio contact. "Taro, are you alright?"

There was no answer. He tried again, "Taro-"

"_-Don't bother, Stephen,"_ Lani interrupted. She sighed heavily. _"His radio was knocked out. But, he should be able to use EDR, if those are his only choices."_

Stephen nodded. Begrudgingly, he continued on. He wasn't overly fond of this realm. He had experienced one winter already in Kentucky, and it was pretty bad. Ice storms definitely aren't fun. And this realm definitely wasn't any better.

He heard Lani asking Karma if she saw Taro. _Just in case, I suppose. _Stephen thought, biting his lip. He still had doubts about his decision on joining the Acceledrome team. Unfortunately, he already made that choice. And he couldn't go back on that. _I hate life. _He decided.

He snapped out of his reverie when he suddenly rounded a sharp corner. Right in front of him, Karma was doing battle with a Drone. Shifting gears, he smoothly caught up and gave the black and green car a little tap that completely threw the robot off course.

"_Thanks," _she said, her voice, while still cool and collected, showed that she had been tiring of the battle.

Stephen didn't bother to reply, feeling it unnecessary. As they reached the end of the track, he began to reflect on his relationship with the two teams. He got along well with them both, though Nolo despised him for befriending Tork, and 'Wylde' despised him for even existing, it seemed. Every once in a while, the Maniacs youngest member would show enough tolerance toward Stephen, that a kind of mutual friendship would be on the verge of revealing itself, until Wylde decided, he needed no friends.

"_I've got Taro! He's back."_ Lani broke into his thoughts.

He sighed in relief, and was plunged forward, back to the Acceledrome, completing the race. It took him brief seconds to realize that the insignia of the realm was missing, and only a split second longer to realize that they hadn't won. Again.

Driving leisurely back to his little section in the garage, Stephen's thoughts fell back to the two teams. He had made it very clear (or at least he hoped he had) that he wasn't going to take sides with either of the teams. And the fact that he showed concern for both teams when one of their members was having trouble, showed true to the fact that he had no favoritisms. This was good, too, because from the beginning it secured him some friends-aside from the two afore mentioned-on both sides. And neither teams seemed concerned about who he hung out with more, as he was normally doing something by himself.

Stephen rubbed his eyes tiredly before exiting his car. The alarms had gone off at two in the morning, and checking his watch, he saw that it was ten 'til three.

A swift and loud **whoosh** was heard and he turned in time to see Taro's vehicle shoot out from the moving sphere. The giant blue ball showed no sign of the recent exit, keeping its swirling motion constant, as if there was no interruption whatsoever. There were about five minutes to the realm left, and all of the drivers that had raced, had returned. Most of them, in fact, had gone back to bed. Something the young spy was about to do himself.

Walking back to his room, Stephen thought of the people he had come to know in the past few days.

Tork Maddox seemed friendly enough when he first joined. The big man hadn't really shown _friendship _toward him, but, he wasn't too standoffish. Sometimes, when he had nothing to do, Stephen would sit in his car and watch the drivers interact with one another. And Tork, he found quite interesting.

All of the Metal Maniacs had tough exteriors, and Tork quite possibly the toughest of them all. Sure, Wylde acted like he was the toughest, but Stephen knew that was mostly show and bitterness. But Tork had it. He was stern, and not too friendly with his teammates, but Stephen could tell that the Maniac leader cared very much for the others. Though, oddly enough, Stephen noticed that Tork seemed to be the most vigilant of Wylde.

Wylde was extremely rebellious. Whatever Stephen's first impressions of the teenager were, they were amplified almost to the fullest extent. Yet, despite all of his anger and rebel spirit, Tork was obviously wanting to look out for him. However, the only reason Stephen noticed this was because of training he had taken to read people's emotions. And Tork's emotions were hidden really well.

_He and Kurt._ Stephen had noted this right away. Kurt did have emotions he showed, but, a lot of them were...forced?...yes, that seemed to be the right word. From the moment he had met the man, Stephen knew that Kurt Wylde was incredibly fit, and a formidable enemy in battle. Yet, Kurt seemed unable to defend himself against his younger brother's more violent attacks.

His room door swished open and Stephen threw himself onto the bed, not even bothering to change clothes.

So, he reasoned, unless Kurt had some sort of illness that did not allow him to fight, the man was obviously pretending not to have the ability to fight back. And that, Stephen knew, was highly unlikely. However, it could be that Kurt just didn't want to chance hurting Wylde. After all, he was the older of the two. Stephen knew that, as the older brother, protection was high priority in family life. There was no way Kurt was an exception.

His thoughts tiredly continued his study on the other drivers. Kurt and Tork were the only mysteries to him. As far as drivers went. The only one that was close to being a 'mystery', was Taro. And Stephen had him pegged as the "strong, silent type," a correct observation. _Right? _

Stephen's brow furrowed as he rummaged through all his knowledge on the quiet driver. Then he stopped them abruptly. There was no way he was getting to sleep with all of the information in his head continued their merry little frolic through his thoughts. Instead, he thought of other things. Things that put him to sleep. History, for example.

Moments later, he was sleeping contentedly, not remembering that his alarm would go off at 6:30. Most likely, that time would start roughly, and end in a satisfied revenge.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Warm. Soft. Quiet. Fantastic. All for words were just barely enough to explain the feelings that coursed through Stephen's tired body. Especially since when he did peel his eyes open, there was no glaring red, that loudly proclaimed the time, greeting him.

His face scrunched up as he realized that it wasn't normal for the glaring red numbers to be non-existent. After a moment or two of slow, rambling thinking that did not solve the mystery of the missing numbers, he turned around, thinking that it was possible that he was just facing the wall. However, when he turned, Stephen realized that _then_ he was facing the wall.

With a groan that did not even begin to express his displeasure for getting up just to solve this mystery, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. When his feet touched the floor, he realized what happened to his alarm clock. And when he bent up to pick up the object, any doubt in his mind was banished at the touch of the many pieces.

_Note to self: always check the alarm setting before going to sleep. _Tossing the broken bits into the garbage can, he flipped on the lights to check the time. 12:05. Yeah, it was time to get up.

He stepped into the bathroom to splash cold water in his face. The action proved to be enough to wake him. He looked up to stare at his tired face, and frowned when he realized that he was still dressed. And how many times had he scolded Josh for sleeping in his clothes? Then he looked down. He was even still wearing his shoes.

Withs slumped shoulders (it took him a while to wake up after nights like that) Stephen walked slowly toward the cafeteria. When that door opened, he realized that the rest of the drivers were already eating lunch. _How do they do it?_ He wondered. _They wake up in the middle of the night to race, some of crashing in some way, and are able to get up at a normal time. _It baffled him to no end._ Of course, they don't stay up late listening to voice files, or hacking into well-guarded computer systems. _Mystery solved.

After his inward monologue, Stephen completely blocked them out as he entered the kitchen. Five feet away from him sat his salvation: coffee. They had apparently saved some for him in the pot, and with the press of a button, the caffeinated liquid was heating up. As he waited, Stephen simply leaned against the counter beside it.

"I see you've decided to join the land of the living." Stephen looked up to see Kurt Wylde standing at the door. "I think."

Stephen smiled and chuckled softly. He had been staring off into space (otherwise known as 'looking unseeingly at the floor') and was sure he looked somewhat like a zombie. "Yeah. Did I miss much?"

Kurt thought for a moment, and shook his head. "Naw, not really. Nothing out of the normal, anyway."

Stephen tilted his head. "Did I miss an argument?"

Kurt nodded.

"Bummer. I really do look forward to those."

Kurt smiled in response, and left.

A small ding sounded, and Stephen turned to pour his coffee. The door swished open behind him, letting him know the arrival of some new visitor.

"I wanted to thank you for getting that Drone off my back."

Stephen turned to face Karma, the owner of the voice. "You're quite welcome. Was he really getting to you?"

Karma smiled. "You could say that."

He nodded and took a swig of his black drink. "Um. Do you know why Kurt and Wylde are so...hateful, toward each other?"

Stephen was pretty sure that if he tried...really really really hard, he could get the answer to that question. The file had been so...incredibly lacking on information to the subject, Stephen felt that it would be nigh impossible to find out. Whatever the reason, it was big.

Karma regarded him for a moment. "Why?"

Stephen shrugged. "I'm just curious. Vert told me about what happened during the World Race, and I just couldn't figure how they turned around so-" he waved a hand around, searching for the right word. "-abruptly."

Karma looked down at her emptied plate. "I'm not really sure. I don't exactly trust Kurt. And he doesn't exactly trust me. So, I wouldn't know. Nolo might. He and Kurt are close. For Nolo, Kurt's the older brother he lost."

"Hm?" Stephen hummed, before remembering. "Oh, right. The...uh, accident that started the Nolo-Tork feud."

Karma nodded. "Yeah. That."

Before Stephen could ask another question, Karma turned and left the kitchen. Draining his mug, Stephen followed shortly after.

As he made his way to the garage, his cellphone rang. Recognizing the ring tone, and glancing at that ID, Stephen made a quick turnaround to his room. Once there, he answered the small, ringing device.

"Yeah?"

"_Stephen?"_ He grimaced, knowing full well the purpose of the call behind the young, female voice on the other line.

"Ashely?" His accent strengthening, to match his sister's.

He could hear the smile in her voice. _"Hey! Where are you? It's been such a long time since you've been home. Josh says that you said that your business has been extended a lot longer than you thought it would be. Hasn't it been even longer than too long? When will you be home?"_

Stephen couldn't help but smile at her chatter. He missed it. "Yeah...I don't know. I really don't. Things keep on coming up, making it all...very, very complicated."

"_Oh," _she said softly. Stephen winced at the disappointment in her voice.

"I'm really sorry."

There was a sigh. _"It's alright." _Then the call ended.

Stephen himself sighed. It was just one of those things....He stuffed the phone back in his pocket, and headed for the garage again. He really hoped that this would end soon.

* * *

**Review. **


	12. Ch11 Soap Operas

**Heeeeeey....sorry it took me so long. But, life caught up with me, and I was never in the mood.**

* * *

With one last twist, the bolt was completely tightened, and Stephen was able to turn away from his work. Something went wrong with his car, causing him to be unable to compete in the last race. It, apparently, hadn't been the best of races. But, they seldom did have amazing races. Karma and Taro were still having issues from the Ice Realm, Taro seemed to be having trouble with even racing near her the last race they were in together.

Taro was normally a quiet guy. Not shy. He just didn't speak unless he felt he had to. And it wasn't very often. But, because of his 'stoic' personality, Taro was an incredibly hard man to read. However, even Stephen, who had known the man far less than the others, could pick up on the slight change after that race. Taro seemed to have become somewhat...sullen. And when he was around Karma, things didn't really improve.

Stephen took one last look in and around his engine and headed off to his room. It was close to midnight, and, as usual, he was exhausted. He'd often wondered why he was so tired even though he usually was able to stay up for as long as forty-eight hours at a time. Then, of course, he remembered that these races occurred at all hours of the day. And night.

In his room, he flopped down on the bed. As usual, his mind flipped through the day's (and night's) events. Not much went on. The race. It had started at four in the morning, which gave him some snooping time. When Stephen had first arrived, he realized that the races were the only times that gave him opportunities to gather information without fear of being caught. Everyone was either in the race, watching the race, or asleep. If it was in the middle of the day, he was more likely to join that pattern than go info-hunting. However, the night races were something he relished.

He sighed. Putting an arm over his eyes, Stephen stopped his thoughts. He hadn't come up with any new information in three weeks, whatsoever! Not even the falling out of the Wylde brothers had been made any clearer. The newest piece: Karma and Taro were interested in each other. That didn't count as anything but gossip! How long was he supposed to do this?

He was just at the edge of sleep when he heard his phone ring. Groaning, he reached over and grabbed it roughly from the table. "What?"

"_Someone's not a happy camper." _Jerry said, much too cheerfully.

Stephen merely grunted.

"_So," _the other man continued, not at all deterred. _"How're the two love birds doing?"_

Stephen shot up. "Dude! Are you serious? You're such a girl!"

"_Hey! You don't have anything else even remotely interesting!"_

"Yeah, well, I can't help it! I've given you everything I know. And I can't find out anything new. You've got all the recorded meetings, all of the races, and even Tezla's sleep talking. Even that stuff isn't any good. Who knew that a guy like Tezla would talk about bunny rabbits in his sleep?" He rubbed his eyes tiredly. Only Jerry would call him at a time when sleep was supposed to be happening.

There was silence on the other end. Until, _"Sooo. How are they?"_

Stephen sighed, giving in. "Something happened in the Ice Realm. I think it was the government group. Anyways, Taro thought it was Karma, but when he was 'betrayed' he completely lost all trust in her. So, he's kinda upset at her, and she's upset at him because he's upset at her."

"_Maaaan, their relationship would make the best Soap Opera."_

"You watch Soap Operas?"

"_No!" _Jerry spluttered. _"Of course not! Why would I do that? Hey! The Wylde brothers. I got a bit more information."_

Stephen's eyes widened slightly. "Yeah?"

Another silence pervaded, and Stephen realized he was waiting with bated breath. _"Dude. Kurt Wylde is the Drifter."_

Stephen made quick jerky movements with no reason behind them, barely able to keep his voice to a whisper, loud as it was. "No way!" His mouth moved, but it wasn't forming any other words. "No way!"

Jerry chuckled. _"I know! So, that deal that landed Mark in jail? It has something to do with Kurt's current mission, which is very similar to yours."_

Stephen fell backwards. "That's...incredible. So, what was it about?"

Jerry sighed. _"I still don't know that. It's completely blocked off to you and I. The only people with clearance for that are mostly the big cheeses. Our levels are way too low to even think about checking it out."_

"Then, how do you know as much as you do?"

"_Let's just say...I've got my connections. Every good spy needs them?"_

"Yeah," Stephen sighed in return. "I wish I could get them. They're almost impossible."

"_Hey, don't sweat it. At your level, and what you're doing right now, you don't have much need for other sources."_

"Hm."

"_Anywho, I gotta go. I only called 'cuz I had a few minutes before a meeting with someone, and I figured I'd kill time with a call to you."_

Stephen snorted softly. "Thanks. I feel so special now. But, most people play solitaire if they've got extra time."

"_Not true. I've heard of some people playing solitaire when they should've been listening to a speaker."_

"Dude. You know what I meant."

"_Whatev. Bye."_

The other line clicked before Stephen could reply. Not that he cared. Sleep was calling. It had such a sweet voice. It made everything seem less important, thought's slowed, and even actions seemed not to happen, making it as though they happened in a dream. When his eyes finally closed, Stephen was unsure of whether his phone had been turned off or not.

'`'`'`'`'``'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Stephen set his coffee down on his tool table, and went back to work on the engine. But, when he woke up at five to take his run, and decided to check his car (one of his oddities was that he'd randomly check on things without real reason, though he'd argue quite vehemently that the proper term is eccentricity, not oddity), he saw that it was no where near finished. With slumped shoulders, he had woefully looked back in forth from the outside world to the engine, finally deciding on a run before all else.

Now, after a shower (another of his eccentricities was that a shower is an absolute must in the morning, otherwise, it would never get done, unless, of course, for an emergency), he was back to work in the metal mass of tubes and holes and other stuff known to the rest of the world as an engine. An amazingly awesome engine, no doubt about it. Very few other cars actually had such a wondrous engine as this one, as it allowed the car to go much much faster than other cars. Thus was life, for the rest of the world. Poor, poor people. How he pitied them.

Stephen leaned down, his head almost touching the car beneath. He was really too tired to have sane thoughts. Thanks, life.

"Hey."

He turned slowly, knowing all too well that a surprised response resulted in the banging of the head on the hood of the car. Always a good idea for cheap laughs. Not at all good for awesome spies who were working on their cars.

And speaking with soft British accents, he remembered just in time. "Lani, what brings you here?"

She leaned on the table. "I was just saying hi. We haven't really talked a lot lately. Just making sure you were doing alright, and didn't need anything."

He joined her and they watched the rest of the garage's activity. "I'm doing fine. I think I'm almost ready to rejoin the races."

Lani laughed. "Good! I'm tired of hearing all the strife among the other drivers. Not to mention the soap opera-ish drama between Karma and Taro. What is this? 'To Drive Against Love'?"

Stephen chuckled. "How about, 'Winning Hearts'."

"Or, 'Sunset Drive'."

The two laughed with tears streaming down their cheeks.

"Okay, okay," Lani gasped. "Why are cheesy things so funny?"

"Uh," Stephen began, calming down somewhat. "Um. That's a really good question."

This sobered them both up.

"We need to figure it out," Lani said.

"Indeed."

"Because, if we don't...then, we probably won't be able to make such things up successfully."

"Which is, in fact, the basis of all goodness in life, when all you're surrounded by is drama."

"Thus is life."

"Yes, well said."

"I know."

The two lapsed into a mutual silence.

"Well," Lani finally said, "It was nice talking with you, but, I gotta go, before Tezla starts wondering where I am."

"Alright, then," Stephen replied, giving a small wave goodbye. Picking up his phone, he swiftly dialed Jerry's number. After several rings, the guy finally picked up.

"_Dude, tell me you have something interesting."_

"You'll never gue-" he stopped himself in time. "I mean, sorry, just a question. If Kurt is a...you know what, who's the other?"

Stephen could practically hear Jerry's shrug. _"No idea. Wish I did, though."_

Stephen sighed heavily. "As do I."

"_Hey!"_

Stephen straightened. "What?"

"_Did you realize that you were still using an accent?"_

He slumped. "Yes. I'm still in the garage."

"_Gay-raj. Heh heh."_

Stephen threw his hands up in the air. "Dude! Really?"

"_Yes, really. Hey, I was just wonderin'...any more delicious gossip?"_

"'Delicious gossip'? Okay, now I _know_ you have issues."

"_C'mooooonn!!"_

"Fine." He mumbled. "Look," he glanced around. "I think Lani and Taro used to be together! She and I were talking just now, and I could just tell by the way she said his name, and the look in her eyes. It was weird."

"_Duuude!" _Jerry whispered excitedly. _"Of course! That's why Taro was so quick to give Karma a hard time! He doesn't trust women anymore, he had a bad experience before, and now, he just can't do it! It's like...like...'Wheels of My Heart'."_

"Uh, maybe, 'Driven by Love'."

"_'Race to Win Her Heart'."_

"'Speedway of Love.'"

"_Dude, why do you get the Soap Opera mission?"_

"'Cuz you're a desk guy, you only get information and phone answering. That's why."

"_Life is lame."_

"If life was lame, than we'd all be using crutches."

"_Ooh, good one."_

"Thanks." Stephen replied, glancing around, realizing that the other drivers had disappeared. All except Wylde, who was still slaving over his new vehicle. Oh, and Pork Chop and Monkey...and an odd little bundle of metal on wheels which was currently handing Pork Chop a wrench. When his stomach began to growl, Stephen put the pieces together, and figured out where the others went. "Hey, man, I gots to get my lunch. I'm hungered."

"_A'ight. Call again if anything comes up." _The metal mass sprayed black oil into Pork Chop's face, and the big man was quickly chasing Monkey out of the cavernous room.

"Will do." Flipping his phone closed, he headed for the cafeteria, taking a slight detour toward the remaining Metal Maniac.

Wylde barely glanced up when Stephen stopped a few feet away.

"Are you coming to lunch?" Stephen asked, biting his tongue when he noticed he had strengthened the accent a bit too much.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." Wylde hadn't seemed to notice anything unusual. In fact, he seemed to be brooding over something, his voice more tense, with a slight growl to it.

Stephen nodded. "Alright."

A few minutes later, he had just finished his sandwich (he had wanted some meat, there had been drumsticks in the fridge, but it all seemed to be gone) and was headed into the dining area when Wylde swung a massive sledge hammers onto Tork's plate, splattering the majority of the food onto Monkey, who had it partially cleaned off by Pork Chop's forefinger.

Staring at the huge object, Stephen slowly took a bite of his sandwich, the only thing that he could think being, _I didn't even know you could make sledge hammers that big. Wait, didn't I see it on top of his car a few minutes ago?_

"I'm challengin' you, Tork! One race, anything goes!" The younger man yelled, causing everyone to look in their direction.

Stephen narrowed his eyes, again wondering what it was that made Wylde hate his brother so much, which had caused Tork to ban him from racing. The root to the problem at hand, Stephen decided.

"If I win, I'm the new leader of the Metal Maniacs!" Wylde continued.

The young spy barely contained a bark of laughter. Seriously? This is how elementary kids and middle schoolers deal with such problems. Not grown men.

But Tork seemed to think differently, as he rose from his seat, much to calmly for a man being challenged in such a way. Even the low growl didn't seem to change Stephen's opinion of his reaction, level, and still calm. "When and where?"

"When the next realm opens."

The next realm? That could be for days.

Taro seemed to agree. "Why not settle it tonight? In the desert."

The man spat the last word out as if it was an extra special challenge. Though, Stephen could see why. It would be dark, and they were already miles away from the highway, and their headlights wouldn't exactly help matters.

"To Tezla's old headquarters and back."

Stephen thought quickly, taking another slow bite from his sandwich. Was that the big, box building he had met Tork in? Yeah, it must've been.

The two challengers looked at each other and nodded their agreement.

The tenseness was broken by Stephen's ringing cell phone. He jumped and nearly dropped his plate, flashing a quick and apologetic smile to everyone, who seemed to be glaring in his direction. As he answered the device, he couldn't help but noticed Kurt's furrowed brow and tight lipped expression. The man emanated worry.

"'Lo," he greeted, swallowing his morsel.

"_Hey, I'm bored again."_

Grinning, Stephen hopped onto the counter. "Dude, you will never believe the ridiculously Soap Opera moment we just had...."

* * *

**Ah, yes. It was a good day. -Jimmy**


	13. Ch12 A Book

**Ah! How patiently you wait! And, indeed, you must be patient. For my updating appears to be sparse and radical. But, here you are, my dearies. I have finally provided you with some more. Merry Christmas! And enjoy. -Jimmy C.**

* * *

Stephen looked up in shock when he saw Pork Chop's big rig barreling up the ramp leading to the portal. Still watching-a jaw dropped-he started for the Control Room. He stumbled a little, looking quickly down at the tool chest he ran into, and kept going. When it disappeared into the realm, he turned and ran the rest of the way.

Lani barely looked up when he burst into the room, but he could still see the slightly frustrated look on her face. Tezla did look up, long enough to know who it was, before looking down. Yet, Stephen still pointed, while gasping for breath.

"Why...why are they going into the realm with the semi?" A moment too late he realized he forgot to add the accent.

But it didn't matter, neither one of them was paying enough attention to notice that little detail. Lani was barely paying enough attention to the question, causing her answer to sound a little distant and unsure of itself. "Uh, they said something about helping the others."

Stephen lowered his hand and cocked an eyebrow.

The door swished open behind him and Karma entered. "The Metal Maniacs are having a little trouble in there." She glanced knowingly at Stephen as she passed.

"And why doesn't that surprise me?" Stephen muttered under his breath, remembering the accent this time.

Wylde had won the race. Making him the new leader of the Metal Maniacs. Which, for obvious reasons, wasn't good. His short temper, and bitter hate made him a vulnerable driver, and a dangerous one. He didn't nearly enough attention for him to win a race, and his single-mindedness about revenge didn't help things either. All of this had made him incapable of doing well in a race, much less being a good leader.

Shaking his head, Stephen wondered why he hadn't seen him come flying out of the portal yet. Sitting down on a nearby chair, he decided to watch the race. Glancing from screen to screen, and catching smidgets of the talk from Karma and Lani's headsets, he began to realize why Pork Chop had gone into the race.

"Monkey..."Lani murmered, aggravated.

Stephen's brow furrowed. "What did he do? He wasn't called in, was he? I certainly don't remember it."

"He wasn't." Karma stated in her matter-of-fact tone. "He went in with Pork Chop."

Stephen's mouth formed an 'O', and he lifted his eyebrows. Of course that happened. Monkey would never go in by himself. But, he would definitely go in if Pork Chop dragged him in.

It wasn't long before Wylde had caught up to Kurt, and began his habitual fight-race. Stephen leaned back in his chair, glancing between the screens, and Lani and Karma's faces. Lani would drop in a word of advice every once in a while, as would Karma. Both of them, he noted, would often let their gazes stray to the Wylde brother's screens.

He did it too. And he couldn't explain it, but, he had a bad feeling about today's race. As if...augh, he couldn't put his finger on it. Standing abruptly, he went back downstairs to the garage. The race would be over soon, so he didn't feel like he needed to be up there. Then he stopped. He looked around, and then glanced back up to the control room.

Stephen smiled. He darted down a corridor. _Left. Right. Right. Left. Left. The door is on your right. _He glanced down both directions of the hall. No one. It was silent as the grave. Pulling a small device out of his pocket, he placed it into his ear. It was a tiny transmitter that connected him to a 'private' line with GIG. It allowed him to speak with the floating computer, without it being known.

Pressing a button beside the door, a small keyboard popped out. He paused a moment, closing his eyes, trying to remember. Opening them again, he punched in the code. The door slid open, and with one more glance around, Stephen slipped through.

He had entered Dr. Tezla's room. It was pretty sparse. A desk. A bed. A dresser. And a little bedside table. With a drawer. He smiled. _I've always found drawers to be quite helpful. _Taking a pair of gloves from his back pocket, he pulled them on and crouched in front of the table. Checking his watch, he assured himself of how much time he had. Twenty minutes.

Pulling out the drawer, he looked in. It was empty. Except for one thing. A small, slim, brown, leather-bound book. It was a plain thing with a simple string tied around it to hold it closed. Curiously, Stephen picked it up, deftly untying the string, to read it.

His eyes widened. _A diary? Tezla keeps a diary? _He skimmed through the pages, filled with thin, flowing words. _He knows cursive, too?_ He flipped back to the beginning, looking for the date. It started in the year 1959....he flipped toward the end...and was last written in last night.

He turned to look at the door that led to Tezla's personal lab. That picture of Tezla with that lady. He turned his attention back to the diary. _It was in the sixties...late sixties...._His eyes lit up...._Found it!_

What he read revealed that Tezla was a man that had known love. Stephen sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. _Why..._why_ was it that I keep on encountering soap operas. _Shaking his head, he got back to reading.

It was a girl named Mary. They met in college-he, a scientific prodegy, she, an English major. They started dating-though, if the diary was anything to go by, they had a very awkward start-and eventually were engaged. Tezla seemed to have few friends, but Mary was quite the social butterfly. This made their engagement a little odd to everyone around them. It seemed that everyone-including his fellow scientists-thought Tezla rather eccentric. And only Mary understood him.

He rolled his eyes_._ Stephen may have been nineteen. But, he hardly had time for romantic thoughts. Odd? Yes. Truth? Yes.

He kept reading. They were married, and just a few years later, Mary died in a car crash.

The door swished open behind him, and Stephen spun around, reaching for his gun-and reaching for nothing. His breath caught in his throat, and was then quickly released as he collapsed back against the table. "GIG! Thanks for the heart attack!"

GIG merely stopped in the air. "Since you turned on my communication line, I realized that you would be investigating. I thought I might warn you. There's five minutes left for the portal."

Stephen nodded. As the robot was floating away, he asked, "How often does Tezla write in his diary?"

GIG turned. "About once a week. Why do you ask."

Stephen smiled, holding it up. "Thought I might borrow it."

GIG nodded, and left.

Stephen flipped through a few more pages, looking for something that might be useful. He was in luck. There were a few sketches and equations indicating research and development. The doctor had kept notes in his diary about his projects. A few pages later, Tezla had written about a job he had been hired for-one that involved his inventions. Exactly what the young spy had hoped to find.

Closing the drawer, Stephen got up and left, tucking the small notebook into his jeans. Walking swiftly, he soon came to his room, and placed the diary underneath the mattress. Checking the time, he noticed-with a smile-that he had two minutes to spare before he would need to make an appearance in the garage.

Just in time too. He figured he was about twenty seconds early, and from the looks of things, the race hadn't gone so well for everyone. They were all staring anxiously toward the portal, causing Stephen's smile to disappear. Something was _definitely _wrong.

Only seconds remained, and Stephen inched toward the spinning, transparent ball, doing a quick head count of everyone. Five of the drivers were missing in the garage. But Karma was in the Control room, and with a bit of effort, Stephen could make out the forms of Pork Chop and Monkey up there as well. That left two drivers. Vert and Wylde.

He looked around, quickly finding Kurt, who was staring so intently at the portal, one would've thought he was controlling the thing. Stephen swallowed hard. Something must've happened in the realm. He recognized the look on Kurt's face. Only because Stephen had had the same look plenty of times himself. The portal was just about to close when a car shot out of it.

He just knew that Kurt was going to be the first to recognize it. It was Vert's. Then the portal closed, and a small clatter sounded as Kurt's helmet hit the ground.

* * *

**Oh, hey. Review? They are great encouragement. :)**


	14. Ch13 Diary Entries

**Here ya go. :)**

* * *

Stephen walked into his room, and paused. He glanced toward the direction of the garage, unsure of what to think. He approached his bed slowly, and sat down heavily. He and Wylde never got along well. But, Stephen did seem to be one of the few people Wylde didn't exactly hate. Though the young spy had guessed that it was because Stephen and Wylde had never met before.

Flopping down on his back, he stared at the ceiling. In his mind he remembered the way Kurt stood when the portal closed. It had only been for a moment, and then he had watched as the elder Wylde had stormed up to the control room, no doubt demanding that Tezla re-opened the portal. If only it was that easy.

He jumped at the sound of his phone. With dread he looked at the name. **Home**.

"Hello?"

"_Stephen?"_ Josh's voice floated over the phone.

Stephen forced pleasant surprise into his voice. "Hey! What-"

"_When, exactly, do you plan on getting back from your vacation?"_

Stephen's mouth dropped open, working to find words to say.

Josh laughed on the other line. _"What? Did you seriously think we'd believe that you're _still_ doing business? Look, it's alright if you want some time to yourself. Though, I am starting to wonder what on earth makes a holiday last _this_ long."_

Stephen chuckled-albeit with a bit of a nervous accent-and said. "Yeah...well, I guess I didn't think it's go down so well with you if I said I needed some time for myself."

"_Some? There are times I can't help but wonder if something happened to you. Are you sure you're okay?"_

He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm fine. I've just been...stressed. A lot. Lately."

There was a sigh. _"As long as you're not dying, or anything. By the way, I've been telling Ryan and Ashely that you're on holiday. Just so you know, they're not terribly worried."_

A genuine smile spread across Stephen's face. "And this is why I'm glad you're my brother."

Josh laughed again. Then there was a pause in their conversation. Stephen heard a deep inhale of breath. _"Look, Stephen, I really am...I really am worried. You've been gone for so long, and _we're _the ones that have to call. It really does make me wonder if something is up."_

Sitting up, Stephen sighed. He could imagine his younger brother biting his lower lip. Josh never did care for admitting anything. Especially anything like what he just said. "Nothing's happening that you need to worry about. I promise. I'll call more often. How's Ryan doing?"

"_Don't change the subject like that!" _A sigh. _"Ry's fine. He's actually been doing really well these last few weeks. Ashely's doing good too. But, they're both wishing you'd get back."_

Stephen nodded. "Good, good. How 'bout you? Are you holding up fine?"

"_Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"_

"I don't know. I'm just making sure."

"_Thanks. Um, I've still got some homework to do. Bye."_

"Goodbye." They hung up simultaneously.

He looked at the door as a terrible thought hit him. What if something happened between him and Ryan , destroying their relationship. With resolve, he decided to take such things seriously. Family was too precious to lose. And he had a feeling that Kurt and his brother realized that too late.

* * *

Stephen jerked awake, startled. He blinked, looking at the clock. His phone vibrated on the bedside table again, and he glanced at it, realizing that the phone was why he woke up. Sitting up, and grabbed it roughly.

"Dawes," he managed to slur out.

"_It's Major Wheeler."_

He sat up a little straighter. "Yes?"

"_We watched some video sent from our bot in the Acceledrome. You snuck into Tezla's room?"_

"Yes, sir, I did." He scrambled for the diary that he still had hidden under his bed. "I found his diary, figured it might have something in it."

"_Good. Have you been able to look through it?"_

"A little, but not that much. I was distracted by an incident and completely forgot about the book."

"_Yes, I've heard about the driver. We're sorry to hear it, and I understand. But, Don't delay any further, we need to get as much information as we can."_

Stephen sighed. "Yes sir."

The click signaled the end of the conversation.

Glaring at the red digital numbers, Stephen noted the time: 2:45. Couldn't he get a decent nights sleep? Just once? Apparently not.

Groaning, he kneeled before his bed and pulled the diary from under his mattress. He got back up to sit on his bed and opened the book. He quickly found the pages he was looking for. It seemed that everything was in scientific order to the doctor. It was odd seeming, but, Stephen felt as though the strange doctor wrote and thought without emotion. Frowning slightly, Stephen turned back the pages. Peter Tezla really didn't seem to care about others. The man barely blinked when a driver came flying' through the portal from an almost fatal crash. And so he wondered how the man ended up getting married.

The pages before his wife's death were so different than the pages after. There, Stephen found that the man was full of life, despite still being an extremely eccentric person. Though, apparently, Mary didn't seem to mind his oddities. And Stephen began to understand him....But, ach! He was getting distracted.

Flipping back to where he was, he kept scanning the pages. He found the drawings, and couldn't help but marvel a little at the concept cars hidden within the pages. He paused at the equations, but quickly moved on when he couldn't make heads nor tails of them.

It was frustrating...most of what Tezla wrote was developmental stage. He found a few notes, but not much. The years after Mary's death were soon filled out with intense scientific thinking. The man didn't keep the diary any more as something to confide his emotions and thoughts in, but as a notebook. With only a few things other than that written down.

But...here. He found something. It seemed that Tezla had selfish motivations. Stephen almost completely skipped it, but was able to glimpse the longest entry Tezla had made since his wife's death.

_June 16, 1997_

_I keep finding myself completely enthralled with these "Acceleracers". The Ultimate Driver....The Best Driver in the World....I wonder if it's possible find one that could, indeed, drive with such precision in these realms we've found._

_Ah, but I mustn't say 'we'. Apparently, these realms were found by a young man who works in another division of the military, I believe. I've heard he's quite good with cars, and has actually participated in the design of some of these extraordinary cars. Silencerz. That's what they call the cars. A truer name, I cannot think of. _

_I think he is one of the drivers of the mysterious black cars they've raced against in the realms. They say it's merely a prototype, that he's working on a better one. It will be an amazing one, if the Silencerz are anything to go by. _

_I think, that if I am ever able to, I shall put together a team of drivers to compete against one another to see who is the fastest and best driver in the world. These realms would definitely be the perfect track for it. _

Stephen read it quickly. This is where it began. It had to be. He flipped a few more pages over, passing up numerous drawings and car schematics. Then he found another entry.

_April 21, 1998_

_These military men drive me crazy. They're fascinated by these realms-as am I. But I think they want to use them in warfare. I would rather learn more about them, how far they test the limits of a driver, and their creators. But I can't. The work they have me doing keeps me from doing my research. _

_I need my own lab. My own space and time to discover these secrets. I'd need help though. Not much, just enough. These X-88 are marvelous. I have one to help me, sometimes. But there's always a Silencer nearby. They've been named after their cars, the Silencerz. Every visitor to the facility calls them this. They've even called me one, but I'd rather they not. I'm not a soldier. Everyone else is. _

_I've scouted out a contractor, though. With enough money, he can build a cube, maybe. I've got plans for it. I also know how to change the programming of the X-88 robots. If I can attain one of those, and a car, I'd be set. _

Purely selfish motives. They weren't even that bad. Yet, bad enough for the man to steal a small camera, he began the monotonous task of taking pictures of each page. He was on the last few when his door slid open.

He gasped, jumping up from his place, trying to reach for his gun. Until he saw the silhouette. Sucking in the air, he collapsed onto his bed. "GIG. I. Am going. To kill you."

If the floating robot could blink, it would've. "Theologically speaking, I cannot be killed, as I do not have a soul."

Stephen couldn't fathom this. "What, are you Spock now?"

"Who?"

"Never mind. What are you doing in here?"

"Have you noticed the time?"

Stephen glanced at the clock. "It's 6:30. Why?"

"Dr. Tezla has discovered that his diary is missing."

* * *

**Oh. Cliffy. Review.**


	15. Ch14 Fear

**Um. You should be proud of me. It hasn't even been a month, and I'm updating. :)**

* * *

Stephen stopped breathing. For a moment. In fact, he was pretty sure his heart stopped beating. "What? You said he didn't write in this thing for months at a time!"

GIG shook his head. "I am just a computer. I cannot predict all human wants based on habits."

Stephen looked wild-eyed around the room, running a hand through his hair. "Learn to!" he hissed.

"I cannot."

Stephen growled, standing quickly. "What are we going to do?"

"I am afraid you will have to figure that out for yourself."

Stephen couldn't help himself as he stared at the floating bot with pleading. He sat back down with a heavy sigh, forcing himself to calm down and think of a plan. But was interrupted.

"_Will all drivers please make precede to the conference room."_

He gulped. "Does he know that you're missing?"

"Not at the moment. But I will be there before everyone else, so he shouldn't suspect a thing."

Stephen nodded. "Okay, I'll be up in a minute."

He darted to the mirror as GIG left the room, and mussed his hair some, in hopes that he looked as if he had just woken up. He walked out of the room and was halfway down the hall when he realized he was still holding the diary. He glanced back toward his door, but only to quickly tuck the book into his pants. He simply didn't have time to run back and place it under his mattress.

He wiped away the sweat off his brow. He was on the verge of a panic attack, and wasn't sure if he was able to keep calm for however long this impromptu meeting was. His mouth was cotton dry, and he wanted so badly to run and get a bottle of water, but he couldn't.

Swallowing his fear-or at least trying to-and forcing himself to calm down, he entered the room, slowing his gait.

Most of the drivers were assembled, the only two yet to make an appearance being the two youngest drivers-Nolo and Vert. Looking over, Stephen guessed that Kurt was among the first. Poor guy looked like he hadn't even slept since the Junk Realm. Tork looked similar, and yet, still rested. Everyone else, well rested, but still worried.

The only one not worried appeared to be was Tezla. But that was really no surprise.

The door swished open, and in stumbled the two other teenagers. Vert looked like he hadn't slept well, either, and Stephen figured it was because of how empathetic the blond could be. Nolo, looked as if he hadn't wanted in any way to be woken, but he also managed to seem to worry.

"Now that you are all here, we can begin," Tezla said.

Eyebrows raised around the room, but only Monkey voiced their thoughts: "What kind of meeting is this?"

Tezla looked directly at him, and Stephen noticed for the first time that he looked...frazzled. "One in which information is gathered."

Kurt, who had been staring off into space, seemed to jerk awake, glaring at the doctor. "In other words, this meeting isn't even all that important, since you are the one in need of the information, and it won't help us one bit."

Tezla merely glanced at the man. "You act as if I interrupted _your_ sleep."

Tork wisely broke in before anything more could be said. "Just tell us what you want."

Now everyone was looking at the scientist, Stephen probably more than anyone else.

He took a moment before continuing. "Someone-" he seemed to let his gaze linger on Kurt-"has broken into my room and stolen..." he paused for the right words. "stolen something very important to me. Would any of you, happen to have any idea of where it might be?" He spoke with such a peculiar tone.

Stephen shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the small notebook seeming to burn his skin.

"What makes you think we'd tell you if we did know?" Taro voiced, looking coolly at the scientist.

Tezla cocked his head. "It's not that I-"

He was interrupted by an alarm, and all of the drivers stood, glancing toward the wheel, almost as if in thanks. None of the 'civilian' drivers knew anything, and they didn't like being questioned by Tezla.

Tezla sighed, and, foregoing his usual way, he said, "Karma, Vert, Nolo, Porkchop, and Stephen." No one needed to ask why he chose so few drivers.

He handed Karma an Accelecharger as she left the room. Porkchop followed closely behind, muttering "Good, I've been needing a race."

Stephen, while walking swiftly, had to check his gait, still trying to keep up an air of nonchalance.

They entered into a world that could've easily been an Indiana Jones set, with trees that belonged in a tropical country, and roads and pillars that were old and worn.

"_Dr. Tezla says that this is called the Ruins Realm."_ Lani's voice came over their radios.

"Huh, looks like my room as a kid," came Porkchop's quick reply.

Stephen glanced over at the Metal Maniac's car. The burly man really meant that he needed a race, he sounded a more light-hearted than anyone else. As he focused back onto the track (as he was _sure_ Karma was doing better), Stephen realized that these races were going to be at least Porkchops way of getting his mind off of Wylde.

A flash of movement caught his eye, and he looked into his rear view mirror to see Drones. What once made his breath catch in his chest, he merely rolled his eyes at, and leaned against the window, one hand on the steering wheel.

Until he remembered the small book he still had on his person. His free hand flew to the steering wheel as he broke into a cold sweat. For the first time in a long time, Stephen was scared of the Drones, and of the Realms. The thought occurred to him, what if he crashed? He nervously drummed the top of his steering wheel, mindlessly choosing a path, not realizing he was following Porkchop.

He went through the possibilities of how a crash might end. A: he would be able to press the EDR, and escape, unharmed, but also possibly lose the books as he flew through the air during his exit. B: he crashed and died. C: he crashed, survived, and was taken by the Drones.

None of these choices, he found particularly attractive. So he steeled his reserve and focused on his driving.

* * *

**Sorry it's short...but, I couldn't help it. :) -Jimmy C.**


	16. All Good Streaks Must Come to an End

**Guys! I am _sooo_ sorry! I've been neglecting all my fanfics D: it's horrid, I know. This one's shorter than I wanted, but, I got it finished! :D So, there is hope! I plan on finishing _all _my fanfics, it just may take longer than we would all want.**

* * *

Stephen slumped momentarily against his steering wheel, incredibly relieved that he hadn't made a mistake in the Realm. He was still painfully aware of the little book he had tucked into his pants, underneath his shirt, when he didn't have time to put it back in his room. He exited out of his car before anyone could suspect anything, and started for his room, feeling as though something was amiss, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it...

He looked around, watching the other drivers exit their own cars (or, in Porkchop's case, get off his bike), and saw that Vert was limping away from Nolo's car. Swallowing, Stephen turned his path toward the two other teenagers. He really wanted to go back to his room to collect his thoughts and figure out a plan to return the diary, but, Stephen felt that he needed to feign normality to throw off all suspicions.

Kurt, he noted, also was headed their way. The man's stress hadn't lessened, but, there did seem something different about him. Stephen studied him for a moment, before coming up with it. He saw determination in Kurt's eyes. A glint of courage that hadn't been there before. He recognized that look. Kurt had a plan. But, he wasn't approaching his teammates to ask their opinion, Stephen was sure.

"What's wrong?" He heard Kurt ask.

Vert smiled encouragingly – albeit a painful smile – and answered, "Nothin', just hurt my leg."

"Obviously," Kurt muttered, turning to look for Lani. "Bad?"

Vert shrugged. "Yeah. I guess."

Kurt fixed him with a concerned glare. Stephen didn't quite know how that was possible. "How bad?"

The blond squirmed a bit. "Um. I'm not sure.

"Hm."

The Teku noticed Stephen's approach, and the young spy smiled a greeting. He opened his mouth to talk, but was interrupted.

"What's that?"

Panic flitted across Stephen's face, but it was only a brief kiss, and he had quickly replaced the mask on his face as he turned. "What's what, Monkey?"

"That book you've got tucked in your pants," Karma said from behind him.

Instinctively, he reached back, his fingertips brushing against the hard binding. He took a step back, quite unsure of what to do.

"That isn't what Dr. Tezla's lookin' for, is it?" Monkey asked.

Porkchop glared threateningly. "Sure could be, the way he's acting."

Stephen smiled, half-heartedly, his accent getting subconsciously stronger even as he spoke. "What? We don't even know what Tezla's looking for."

The big man's eyes hardened, and he took a step forward. "That is what he's looking for, isn't it?"

Stephen didn't really want to, but he took another step back anyways, taking the notebook out of his waistband to hold it. He swallowed. What to say? What to do?

"That is, in fact, what I'm looking for."

The young spy closed his eyes briefly before turning to look at Tezla.

"How did you come to have it?" The scientist asked with a raised eyebrow.

_Think fast, Dawes. _"I...found it on the floor, in one of the hallways." _Not bad. But you've done better._

Tezla raised his other eyebrow. "Really? Which one?"

Stephen shrugged. "Not sure." He laughed a bit. "You know, I'm so tired, I can't really remember."

He handed it to Tezla, who took it without so much as glancing at it. "How interesting. Considering I never take this book from out of my room."

Stephen cocked his head. "Are you sure? Then that _is_ interesting. Maybe you did the other day and simply didn't remember."

Silence.

He was uncomfortably aware of all the drivers watching him. Their gazes curious, and ever so slightly angry.

"That is Tezla's." Porkchop's growl came from behind.

Stephen laughed nervously. "Well it's not like he can't have it back." He looked to the scientist. "No harm done, right?"

"Wrong!" He turned around just in time for his face to meet Porkchop's fist...which successfully turned out the lights.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Both teams watched the teen fall to the ground. Porkchop stood angrily over him, fist still clenched, breathing heavily. "I bet he's workin' for the Drones."

Tork stepped forward, laying a hand on the bigger man's shoulder. "Maybe he is, but we'll need him alive to find out, so calm down."

Porkchop hesitated, and then conceded, moving away.

The big red-head's heavy breathing permeated the room, and everyone looked at each other awkwardly.

"So," Monkey started, looking at the unconscious Stephen on the ground. "what do we do now?"

Taro stepped forward. "We should get him," he pointed, "to an empty room we could use as a holding cell. Do you have one, Dr. Tezla?"

"Yes, it's a storage closet, but there really isn't much in there. Nothing important, I don't think."

Taro nodded. He and Tork followed Tezla, with Stephen, to the closet mentioned.

The remaining drivers looked uneasily at one another, not making a move until Lani motioned grabbed Vert's arm, pulling him away gently. "C'mon, let's take a look at that leg."

They slowly dispersed, Kurt remaining the longest, staring thoughtfully down the hallway after the retreating figures. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Bob? Hey, I need you to look into something for me..."

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Jerry tapped lightly on the desk in front of him, fully aware of his superior's death glare drilling into the back of his head. "Pick up the phone," he whispered in a sing-song way. "Let's go, Stephen." But there was no answer.

He sighed. "I can't get him."

The superior frowned. "That's so strange. I'll let the major know," she said, turning. "Maybe he can get through."

"Maybe," Jerry shrugged. He didn't like this. Not one bit.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Major Wheeler stared at the screen in front of him, taking in the information sent to him by the stolen X-88 robot. His office was white and silver, the only _real_ color coming from his computer screen. His communicator beeped in his ear.

"Yes?" He answered.

"_Major Wheeler? This is Becky Goldsmith, Special Agent Dawes superior."_

He nodded. "How can I help you?"

"_Well, sir, I'm afraid that Dawes isn't responding to our calls, and from what we can tell, he isn't racing. Not right now, anyways."_

The Major sighed, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them, he typed in a few commands, forwarding GIG's message to Becky, saying, "I was afraid of that."

"_Sir?"_

"I just received a message from our stolen X-88 machine saying that Special Agent Dawes was discovered and is not in the Acceledrome team's custody."

There was shocked silence on the other end.

"I'm sending that message to you now, so that you can have all of the information. It doesn't appear that they knew _exactly _what he was there for, and I don't believe he'll talk. I'll be sending my Drifters a request to help with what they can."

"_Thank you, sir, I just received the message. We'll do whatever we can to retrieve the information Dawes may have had on his computer at the time of his discovery. And, Major Wheeler, I can personally assure you that _he will not_, under _any _circumstances talk."_

Jack nodded again. "Good. Goodbye, Ms. Goldsmith."

He hung up. This certainly made things a bit more interesting.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

Josh stretched, slowly waking. With a yawn, he pulled himself out of bed, glancing at the clock. He looked again, surprised: 8:30. On a Saturday? He never woke that early. A dreadful sinking feeling settled in his stomach, and he grabbed the phone that sat on his bedside table.

Finding the number he wanted, he pressed the dial button. The other line rang several times before the answering machine activated. "_Hey, this is Stephen, sorry I missed you, just leave a message and your number and I'll try to get back to you."_

"Stephen! It's Josh. Every thing's fine, here, but," He paused. "Look, this is going to sound really strange, but, I just have a really bad feeling right now, and I thought I ought to call you. Call back when you can, please." He hung up, biting his lip. _This can't be good. He _always _answers._

Trying to shrug the feeling off, Josh headed for the kitchen, checking in on Ryan and Ashley on the way. If only feelings were easy to shrug off.

**

* * *

Well, there ya go, kids! Last post for 2010. It's been a good year, and I have high hopes for the next. Happy New Year, everybody! -Jimmy C.**


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